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This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us.

D. H. Lawrence

You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Love Myself Yourself
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
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
I don’t want the corpses of flowers about me.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Flower Myself
She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Wait Woman
As we all know, too much of any divine thing is destruction
D. H. LAWRENCE

Deep Destruction Divine
When we really want to go for something better, we shall smash the old. Until then, any sort of proposal, or making proposals, is no more than a tiresome game for self-important people.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Game Important Old People
She would have thought a woman would have died of shame. Instead of which, the shame died.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Herself Shame Woman
Be a good animal,true to your instincts.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Animal Goodness True
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
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

Act Sea Sex
When I hear modern people complain of being lonely then I know what has happened. They have lost the cosmos.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Lonely Lost Myself People Space
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.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Lying Poet Thinking
I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Discover Hate Love Myself
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
Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Company Perfection

This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us.

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This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us.

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