She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.
D. H. LAWRENCETheir whole life depends on spending money, and now they’ve got none to spend. That’s our civilization and our education: bring up the masses to depend entirely on spending money, and then the money gives out.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
-
-
One must learn to love, and go through a good deal of suffering to get to it, and the journey is always towards the other soul.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I am part of the sun as my eye is of me. That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Perhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The only rule is, do what you really, impulsively, wish to do. But always act on your own responsibility, sincerely. And have the courage of your own strong emotion.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world, chop the world down to fit yourself.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
If only there weren’t so many other people in the world,’ he said lugubriously.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
What liars poets and everybody were! They made one think one wanted sentiment. When what one supremely wanted was this piercing, consuming, rather awful sensuality.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Perhaps only people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the universe. The others have a certain stickiness, they stick to the mass.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Don’t you find it a beautiful clean thought, a world empty of people, just uninterrupted grass, and a hare sitting up?
D. H. LAWRENCE -
He felt he had lost it for good, he knew what it was to have been in communication with her, and to be cast off again. In misery, his heart like a heavy stone, he went about unliving.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Every true artist is the salvation of every other. Only artists produce for each other a world that is fit to live in.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
The novel is the one bright book of life. Books are not life. They are only tremulations on the ether. But the novel as a tremulation can make the whole man alive tremble.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
D. H. LAWRENCE







