It is a fine thing to establish one’s own religion in one’s heart, not to be dependent on tradition and second-hand ideals. Life will seem to you, later, not a lesser, but a greater thing.
D. H. LAWRENCEPerhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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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.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
That’s how women are with me said Paul. They want me like mad but they don’t want to belong to me.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The human soul needs beauty more than bread.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
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She was not herself–she was not anything. She was something that is going to be–soon–soon–very soon. But as yet, she was only imminent.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
There’s lots of good fish in the sea, maybe, but the vast masses seem to be mackerel or herring, and if you’re not mackerel or herring yourself, you are likely to find very few good fish in the sea.
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 -
One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
She would have thought a woman would have died of shame. Instead of which, the shame died.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
But 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.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Those that go searching for love only make manifest their own lovelessness, and the loveless never find love, only the loving find love, and they never have to seek for it.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Love is never a fulfillment. Life is never a thing of continuous bliss. There is no paradise. Fight and laugh and feel bitter and feel bliss: and fight again. Fight, fight. That is life.
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One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.
D. H. LAWRENCE







