All that we know is nothing, we are merely crammed wastepaper baskets,unless we are in touch with that which laughs at all our knowing.
D. H. LAWRENCEBut the act, called the sexual act, is not for the depositing of seed. It is for leaping off into the unknown, as from a cliff’s edge, like Sappho into the sea.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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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 -
As we all know, too much of any divine thing is destruction
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Their words were only accidents in the mutual silence.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
Man is a mistake. He must go.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Sometimes life takes hold of one, carries the body along, accomplishes one’s history, and yet is not real, but leaves oneself as it were slurred over.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
He worked very hard, till nothing lived in him but his eyes.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Their 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.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Be sure your sins will find you out, especially if you’re married and her name’s Bertha.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
D. H. LAWRENCE







