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
Never trust the teller, trust the tale. The proper function of a critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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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 -
I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Only youth has a taste of immortality.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Now go away then, and leave me alone. I don’t want any more of your meretricious persiflage.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
That’s how women are with me said Paul. They want me like mad but they don’t want to belong to me.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
He knew that conscience was chiefly fear of society or fear of oneself.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Never trust the teller, trust the tale. The proper function of a critic is to save the tale from the artist who created it.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
It’s not art for art’s sake, it’s art for my sake.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
What the eye doesn’t see and the mind doesn’t know, doesn’t exist.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
But better die than live mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
That’s the place to get to – nowhere. One wants to wander away from the world’s somewheres, into our own nowhere.
D. H. LAWRENCE