Quotes by Vita Sackville-West

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Travel is the most private of pleasures. There is no greater bore than the travel bore. We do not in the least want to hear what he has seen in Hong-Kong.

Women, like men, ought to have their youth so glutted with freedom they hate the very idea of freedom.
It is very necessary to have markers of beauty left in a world seemingly bent on making the most evil ugliness.
I can scarcely, nowadays, endure the company of anybody under seventy. Young people compel one to look forward on a life full of effort. Old people permit one to look backward on a life whose effort is over and done with. That is reposeful.
I determined that at sixty-five business properly speaking should know me no more. On my sixty-fifth birthday--or, to put it more correctly, on my sixty-sixth--I woke a free man. For my practice had always been a discipline rather than an inclination.
It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? for the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop. Growth is exciting; growth is dynamic and alarming. Growth of the soul, growth of the mind.
I do not like January very much. It is too stationary. Not enough happens. I like the evidences of life, and in January there are too few of them.
Apart from the pleasures of gardening, November has beauty of its own. The Saxons called it the wind-month, for then the fishermen drew up their boats and abandoned fishing till the spring; it was called the slaughter-month, too, when pigs and cattle were salted down for preservation throughout the winter.
There comes a morning, always, at this time of year when one awakes to the realisation that one's knees and the tip of one's nose are unexpectedly cold, and, still drowsy, scrabbles to regain the blankets one had flung off during the earlier part of the night; then, aroused to full consciousness, leaps from bed to gaze out of the window. What has happened? The familiar summer aspect has changed.

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