Rebecca West
Rebecca West
Dame Cicely Isabel Fairfield DBE, known as Rebecca West, or Dame Rebecca West, was a British author, journalist, literary critic and travel writer. An author who wrote in many genres, West reviewed books for The Times, the New York Herald Tribune, the Sunday Telegraph, and the New Republic, and she was a correspondent for The Bookman. Her major works include Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, on the history and culture of Yugoslavia; A Train of Powder, her coverage of the...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionActivist
Date of Birth21 December 1892
CountryIreland
Rebecca West quotes about
A copy of the universe is not what is required of art; one of the damned things is ample.
Before a war military science seems a real science, like astronomy; but after a war it seems more like astrology.
But there are other things than dissipation that thicken the features. Tears, for example.
Embraces do not matter; they merely indicate the will to love and may as well be followed by defeat as victory. But disregard means that now there needs to be no straining of the eyes, no stretching forth of the hands, no pressing of the lips, because theirs is such a union that they are no longer aware of the division of their flesh.
She did not suddenly start being disagreeable this afternoon, she was so good at it, she had evidently practised whatever are the scales and arpeggios of rudeness every day of her life.
The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning.
For the sake of my country, and perhaps a little for the sake of my soul, I have given up the deep peace of being in opposition.
If there is a God, I don't think He would demand that anyone bow down or stand up to Him. I often have a suspicion that God is still trying to work things out and hasn't finished.
There is a point, and it is reached more easily than is supposed, where interference with freedom of the arts and literature becomes an attack on the life of society.
I find to my astonishment that an unhappy marriage goes on being unhappy when it is over.
The American struggle for the vote was much more difficult than the English for the simple reason that it was much more easy.
I cannot see that art is anything less than a way of making joys perpetual.
The earth itself is slightly resistant to routine.
She saw she had fallen into the hands of one of those doctors who have strayed too far from apparent in the direction of the soul.