Winifred Holtby
Winifred Holtby
Winifred Holtbywas an English novelist and journalist, now best known for her novel South Riding, which was posthumously published in 1936...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth23 June 1898
dog children
The more I see of dogs, the more I like children.
beautiful gay europe
Most gay, conversational, careless, lovely city ... where one drinks golden Tokay until one feels most beautiful, and warm and loved - oh, Budapesth!
innovation dry lord
All adventuring is rash, and all innovations dangerous. But not nearly so dangerous as stagnation and dry rot. From grooves, cliques, clichés and resignation - Good Lord deliver us!
niece debt may
public work brings a vicarious but assured sense of immortality. We may be poor, weak, timid, in debt to our landlady, bullied by our nieces, stiff in the joints, shortsighted and distressed; we shall perish, but the cause endures; the cause is great.
writing creation difficulty
The only difficulty is to know what bits to choose and what to leave out. Novel-writing is not creation, it is selection.
fortune grouches seems
If we haven't a grouch against Fortune, we seem unable to avoid one against ourselves.
regret sorry feels
It's the things you don't do, not the things you do, you feel most sorry for.
use seventies havens
why haven't we seventy lives? One is no use.
distance people strange
What a strange distance there is between ill people and well ones.
giving needs give-and-take
Love needs the stiffening of respect, the give and take of equality.
mean doe ends
But questioning does not mean the end of loving, and loving does not mean the abnegation of intelligence
animal roots body
I would, if I could, always feed to music. The singularly graceless action of thus filling one's body with roots and dead animals and powdered grain is given some significance then. One can perform as a ritual what one is shamed to do as a utilitarian action ...
happiness thinking golden-days
You are quite, quite wrong if you think that ... I find your happiness painful. What matters is that happiness - the golden day - should exist in the world, not much to whom it comes. For all of us it is so transitory a thing, how could one not draw joy from its arrival?
time enemy betray
Oh, time betrays us. Time is the great enemy ...