If you could only tell them that living and spending isn’t the same thing! But it’s no good. If only they were educated to live instead of earn and spend, they could manage very happily.
D. H. LAWRENCEIf you could only tell them that living and spending isn’t the same thing! But it’s no good. If only they were educated to live instead of earn and spend, they could manage very happily.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
How she hated words, always coming between her and her life: they did the ravishing, if anything did: ready-made words and phrases, sucking all the live-sap out of living things.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.
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For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
All that we know is nothing, we are merely crammed wastepaper baskets,unless we are in touch with that which laughs at all our knowing.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I don’t want the corpses of flowers about me.
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He knew that conscience was chiefly fear of society or fear of oneself.
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As we all know, too much of any divine thing is destruction
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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.
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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.
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There is no pornography without a secrecy.
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I can never decide whether my dreams are the result of my thoughts or my thoughts the result of my dreams.
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Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The beautiful pure freedom of a woman was infinitely more wonderful than any sexual love.
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