If only there weren’t so many other people in the world,’ he said lugubriously.
D. H. LAWRENCEYou’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!
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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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.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Man is a mistake. He must go.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
If a woman hasn’t got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she’s a dry stick as a rule.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
You can’t insure against the future, except by really believing in the best bit of you, and in the power beyond it.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Perhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
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 -
One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The world is a raving idiot, and no man can kill it: though I’ll do my best. But you’re right. We must rescue ourselves as best we can.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
What the eye doesn’t see and the mind doesn’t know, doesn’t exist.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
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







