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One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.

D. H. Lawrence

She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Herself Wait Woman
I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Fear Myself Reality
Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Body Fear Mindset Resistance
One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Kind Laugh Oneself War World
For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Heart Broken Love Myself
I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Feeling Goodness Myself Writing
Only youth has a taste of immortality.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Forever Mortal Taste Youth
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.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Alone People Reality Togetherness
I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Instagram Captions Life Live Myself Night Regret
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

Forever Himself Hope Necessary Past Woman
A little morphine in all the air. It would be wonderfully refreshing for everyone.
D. H. LAWRENCE

People Wonderful
We fucked a flame into being.
D. H. LAWRENCE

One Liner Reality Sex
Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Humanity Kind Philosophy
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

Creation Story Trust
But better die than live mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Better Death Life Live
She would have thought a woman would have died of shame. Instead of which, the shame died.
D. H. LAWRENCE

Death Herself Shame Woman

One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.

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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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