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"But here the speakers fell silent. Perhaps they were thinking that there is a vast distance between any poem and any picture; and that to compare them stretches words too far. At last, said one of them, we have reached the edge where [art] breaks off and takes her way into the silent land. We shall have to set foot there soon, and all our words will fold their wings and sit huddled like rooks on the tops of the trees in winter...But since we love words let us dally for a little on the verge, said the other."

Virginia Woolf, Essay on Walter Sickert 1934

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Pashmina Lalchandani
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