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. LAWRENCEDon’t you find it a beautiful clean thought, a world empty of people, just uninterrupted grass, and a hare sitting up?
More D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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I can never decide whether my dreams are the result of my thoughts or my thoughts the result of my dreams.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.
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They stood together in a false intimacy, a nervous contact. And he was in love with her.
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How she hated words, always coming between her and her life: they did the ravishing, if anything did: ready-made words and phrases, sucking all the live-sap out of living things.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.
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 -
I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
You’re spending your life without renewing it. You’ve got to be amused, properly healthily amused. You’re spending your vitality without making any. Can’t go on you know. Depression! Avoid depression!
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 essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.
D. H. LAWRENCE -
Money poisons you when you’ve got it, and starves you when you haven’t.
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 -
How she loved to listen when he thought only the horse could hear.
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I would rather sit still in a state of peace on a stone than ride in the motor-car of a multi-millionaire and feel the peacelessness of the multi-millionaire poisoning me.
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For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.
D. H. LAWRENCE