Perhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.
D. H. LAWRENCEThings 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.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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The human soul needs beauty more than bread.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
But the act, called the sexual act, is not for the depositing of seed. It is for leaping off into the unknown, as from a cliff’s edge, like Sappho into the sea.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.
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 -
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 -
I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
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 -
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I can never decide whether my dreams are the result of my thoughts or my thoughts the result of my dreams.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Vitally, the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree, with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
D. H. LAWRENCE -
The beautiful pure freedom of a woman was infinitely more wonderful than any sexual love.
D. H. LAWRENCE