One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.
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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Don’t you find it a beautiful clean thought, a world empty of people, just uninterrupted grass, and a hare sitting up?
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She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
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The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.
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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.
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Things men have made with wakened hands, and put soft life into are awake through years with transferred touch, and go on glowing for long years.
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Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.
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Be a good animal,true to your instincts.
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That’s how women are with me said Paul. They want me like mad but they don’t want to belong to me.
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Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.
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I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
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As we all know, too much of any divine thing is destruction
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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.
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You’re spending your life without renewing it. You’ve got to be amused, properly healthily amused. You’re spending your vitality without making any. Can’t go on you know. Depression! Avoid depression!
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You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.
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A man could no longer be private and withdrawn. The world allows no hermits.
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Only youth has a taste of immortality.
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He worked very hard, till nothing lived in him but his eyes.
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I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
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Nobody knows you. You don’t know yourself. And I, who am half in love with you, What am I in love with? My own imaginings?
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Vitally, the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree, with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.
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The beautiful pure freedom of a woman was infinitely more wonderful than any sexual love.
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If you could only tell them that living and spending isn’t the same thing! But it’s no good. If only they were educated to live instead of earn and spend, they could manage very happily.
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But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.
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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.
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The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.
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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