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What one does in one’s art, that is the breath of one’s being. What one does in one’s life, that is a bagatelle for the outsiders to fuss about.

D. H. Lawrence

If a woman hasn’t got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she’s a dry stick as a rule.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Woman
A woman unsatisfied must have luxuries. But a woman who loves a man would sleep on a board
D. H. LAWRENCE

Love Luxury Man Poor Satisfaction Woman
She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Wait Woman
The world is a raving idiot, and no man can kill it: though I’ll do my best. But you’re right. We must rescue ourselves as best we can.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Kill Man Ourselves Right World
It is a fine thing to establish one’s own religion in one’s heart, not to be dependent on tradition and second-hand ideals. Life will seem to you, later, not a lesser, but a greater thing.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Establishment Greatness Heart Ideal Religion
He knew that conscience was chiefly fear of society or fear of oneself.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Fear Himself Oneself People
He worked very hard, till nothing lived in him but his eyes.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Eyes Himself Live
I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Discover Hate Love Myself
There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Flower Heart Lost Save
For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Heart Broken Love Myself
The dead don’t die. They look on and help.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Help See Spiritual
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
D. H. LAWRENCE

Myself Sorry Wild
All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Forever Himself Hope Necessary Past Woman
Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Hot Passion Talk Word Yourself
One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Book Emotion Present Sick
You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Love Myself Yourself

What one does in one’s art, that is the breath of one’s being. What one does in one’s life, that is a bagatelle for the outsiders to fuss about.

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What one does in one’s art, that is the breath of one’s being. What one does in one’s life, that is a bagatelle for the outsiders to fuss about.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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