Vita Sackville-West Quotes

Once in a while, I bump into a knitter, and we have a lovely conversation. But if you figure out the number of people who know me and the people who don't, it's really a small number.

I talk to women for a living. It's pretty much what I do with my day.

I'm not as clever as J.J. Abrams and those guys who fill it with all of these things for people to find.

Interviewing people is hard.

One must talk. That's how it is. One must.

I just think that we have more opportunity to have a bit more of that banter between each other. And, given that the two women are so different, there's really something to play with.

Conversation should be like juggling; up go the balls and plates, up and over, in and out, good solid objects that glitter in the footlights and fall with a bang if you miss them.

Hey, Colt Cabana, how you doing?

The oldest form of theater is the dinner table.

I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said. I stared at her as if she'd just said "I need to eat a large, smelly boot." "What for?

Connecting today is a dialogue.

Converse, converse, CONVERSE, with living men, face to face, mind to mind-that is one of the best sources of knowledge.

A woman, like a cross-eyed man, looks one way, but goes another--hence her mysteriousness.

People say strange things, the boy thought. Sometimes it's better to be with the sheep, who don't say anything. And better still to be alone with one's books. They tell their incredible stories at the time when you want to hear them. But when you're talking to people, they say some things that are so strange that you don't know how to continue the conversation.

You keep distracting me,” I tell her. “All I’m doing is sitting here talking to you!” “Exactly,” I say, and I smile at her.j

I admired Bohr very much. We had long talks together, long talks in which Bohr did practically all the talking.

You look disappointed to see me, Zach," Macey teased. "Don't you like my jacket?

Business is a conversation because the defining work of business is conversation.

What is your name?" "Again sir, that is no concern of yours." "A mystery," he said. "I shall have to call you Clorinda." ..... "Judith! What the devil? exclaimed Peregrine. "Has there been an accident?" "Judith," repeated the gentleman of the curricle pensively. "I prefer Clorinda.

I always play more than I talk, so the more I talk, the more I'll play.

How strange women are.

I like talking to a brick wall- it's the only thing in the world that never contradicts me!

Iʹve seen you too. Ozera. Crispin, right?ʺ ʺChristian,ʺ corrected Lissa. ʺRight.ʺ .... ʺSo what brings you and Christopher here?ʺ asked Blake. He finished a glass of something amber colored and set it down beside the new drink. ʺChristian,ʺ said Christian. .... Blake gave her puppy-dog eyes. ʺBut you just got here! I was hoping we could get to know each other.ʺ It went without saying what he meant by that. ʺOh. And Kreskin too.

Because with every action, comment, conversation, we have the choice to invite Heaven or Hell to Earth.

I happen to disagree with the well-entrenched theory that the art of conversation is merely the art of being a good listener. Such advice invites people to be cynical with one another and full of fake; when a conversation becomes a monologue, poked along with tiny cattle-prod questions, it isn't a conversation any more.