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They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.

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
And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place – even the butterfly.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Animal Creation Flower Nature
Now go away then, and leave me alone. I don’t want any more of your meretricious persiflage.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Alone Leaving Myself Yourself
This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Evil Passionate Worst
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

Hate Herself Live Word
She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Wait Woman
If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Fall Love Moon Myself
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

Laughter Ourselves Philosophy Touch
The human soul needs beauty more than bread.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Beauty Food Human Need Soul
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

Eyes Myself Nature Perfection Sea Sun
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

Animal Death Feeling Myself See Wild
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

Hands Life Man Touch Transformation Weakness
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
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
The dead don’t die. They look on and help.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Help See Spiritual
Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Age Feeling Ourselves Reality

They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.

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They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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