Only youth has a taste of immortality.
D. H. LAWRENCEVitally, 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.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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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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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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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.
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If a woman hasn’t got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she’s a dry stick as a rule.
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One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
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She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
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You can’t insure against the future, except by really believing in the best bit of you, and in the power beyond it.
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I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.
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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.
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How she hated words, always coming between her and her life: they did the ravishing, if anything did: ready-made words and phrases, sucking all the live-sap out of living things.
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Be sure your sins will find you out, especially if you’re married and her name’s Bertha.
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He knew that conscience was chiefly fear of society or fear of oneself.
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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.
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Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.
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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