Vita Sackville-West Quotes

Summer passes into autumn in some unimaginable point of time, like the turning of a leaf.

... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.

No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.

The Summer had died peacefully in its sleep, and Autumn, as soft-spoken executrix, was locking life up safely until Spring came to claim it.

The change from storm and winter to serene and mild weather, from dark and sluggish hours to bright and elastic ones, is a memorable crisis which all things proclaim. It is seemingly instantaneous at last.

You’re my change of skin / my summer-winter-fall / I spring to follow you / this loss is beautiful.

Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Silence and darkness were all I craved. Well, I get a certain amount of both. They being one.

Silence is a still noise.

How silent are the winds!

Although I have always loved the noise of laughter, I really can't fear the coming of quiet. As for funerals, I rather like them. Such nice things are always said about the deceased, I feel sad that they had to miss hearing it all by just a few days.

In the corridors under tehre is nothing but sleep. And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep On moon-washed apples of wonder.

Silence, nothing is better.

And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.

Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well, bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No one stirring, no plans. Just being there.

Someone wake me when it's over When the evening silence softens golden Just lay me on bed of dover Oh, I need help with this burden "Hush

Variación / Variations El remanso de aire bajo la rama del eco. El remanso del agua bajo fronda de luceros. El remanso de tu boca bajo espesura de besos. * The still waters of the air under the bough of the echo. The still waters of the water under a frond of stars. The still waters of your mouth under a thicket of kisses. Translated from the Spanish by Lysander Kemp

I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared through the window's wavy glass. The red velvet curtains were drawn around the tiny alcove, and I was enveloped by an odd sense of peace, knowing that in twenty minutes, the halls were going to be crowded; music was going to be blaring; and I was going to go from being an only child to one of a hundred sisters, so I knew to savor the silence while it lasted.

Have you ever noticed how quiet you get when you go in the woods? It's almost like you know that God's there.

Silence And a deeper silence When the crickets Hesitate

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence.