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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.

D. H. Lawrence

The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Kill Soul
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
Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world, chop the world down to fit yourself.
D. H. LAWRENCE

World Yourself
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.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Feeling Goodness Heart Himself Live Lost Misery
There is no pornography without a secrecy.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Secret Sex
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

Art Live True World
She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Wait Woman
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
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

Civilization Education Life Money
I don’t want the corpses of flowers about me.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Flower Myself
If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Fall Love Moon Myself
Be a good animal,true to your instincts.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Animal Goodness True
A little morphine in all the air. It would be wonderfully refreshing for everyone.
D. H. LAWRENCE

People Wonderful
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
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.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Greatness Human Ourselves Race Tree

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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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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