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. LAWRENCEThat’s how women are with me said Paul. They want me like mad but they don’t want to belong to me.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Be a good animal,true to your instincts.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.
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 -
We fucked a flame into being.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Their whole life depends on spending money, and now they’ve got none to spend. That’s our civilization and our education: bring up the masses to depend entirely on spending money, and then the money gives out.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Money poisons you when you’ve got it, and starves you when you haven’t.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
D. H. LAWRENCE -
For God’s sake, all of you, say spiteful things about me, then I shall know I mean something to you. Don’t say surgaries, or I’m done.
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 -
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 -
A man could no longer be private and withdrawn. The world allows no hermits.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
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 -
But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Nobody knows you. You don’t know yourself. And I, who am half in love with you, What am I in love with? My own imaginings?
D. H. LAWRENCE







