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. LAWRENCEThere is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.
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Be a good animal,true to your instincts.
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Perhaps only those people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the world.
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One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
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I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.
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For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
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When I hear modern people complain of being lonely then I know what has happened. They have lost the cosmos.
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If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
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The dead don’t die. They look on and help.
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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.
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The world is a raving idiot, and no man can kill it: though I’ll do my best. But you’re right. We must rescue ourselves as best we can.
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She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.
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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.
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She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
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Recklessness is almost a man’s revenge on his woman.
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For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
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Perhaps only people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the universe. The others have a certain stickiness, they stick to the mass.
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I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
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Money poisons you when you’ve got it, and starves you when you haven’t.
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But better die than live mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions.
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Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
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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