For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
D. H. LAWRENCEYou love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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A little morphine in all the air. It would be wonderfully refreshing for everyone.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Now go away then, and leave me alone. I don’t want any more of your meretricious persiflage.
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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 -
Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
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One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.
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I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
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She was not herself–she was not anything. She was something that is going to be–soon–soon–very soon. But as yet, she was only imminent.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
We fucked a flame into being.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The novel is the one bright book of life. Books are not life. They are only tremulations on the ether. But the novel as a tremulation can make the whole man alive tremble.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Love is never a fulfillment. Life is never a thing of continuous bliss. There is no paradise. Fight and laugh and feel bitter and feel bliss: and fight again. Fight, fight. That is life.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Give up bearing children and bear hope and love and devotion to those already born.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
Don’t you find it a beautiful clean thought, a world empty of people, just uninterrupted grass, and a hare sitting up?
D. H. LAWRENCE -
And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place – even the butterfly.
D. H. LAWRENCE







