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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 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.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Animal Death Feeling Myself See Wild
Only youth has a taste of immortality.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Forever Mortal Taste Youth
They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Freedom Goodness Live Man Philosophy Woman
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Deep Desire End Philosophy
You’re always begging things to love you, he said, as if you were a beggar for love. Even the flowers, you have to fawn on them–
D. H. LAWRENCE

Flower Love Yourself
I would rather sit still in a state of peace on a stone than ride in the motor-car of a multi-millionaire and feel the peacelessness of the multi-millionaire poisoning me.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Feeling Money Myself Peace Poison
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 beautiful pure freedom of a woman was infinitely more wonderful than any sexual love.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Beautiful Freedom Love Woman
They stood together in a false intimacy, a nervous contact. And he was in love with her.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Himself Love Togetherness
Never trust the teller, trust the tale. The proper function of a critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Creation Story Trust
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
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

Art Breathe Life Oneself
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
Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Humanity Kind Philosophy
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

Eyes Myself Nature Perfection Sea Sun
Life is ours to be spent, not to be saved.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Life One Liner Ourselves Save

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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