D. H. Lawrence Quotes
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The east is not for me--the sensuous spiritual voluptuousness, the curious sensitiveness of the naked people, their black, bottomless, hopeless eyes.
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Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.
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The more scholastically educated a man is generally, the more he is an emotional boor.
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The final aim is not to know, but to be.... You've got to know yourself so that you can at last be yourself. "Be yourself" is the last motto.
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In America the chief accusation seems to be one of "Eroticism." This is odd, rather puzzling to my mind. Which Eros? Eros of the jaunty "amours," or Eros of the sacred mysteries? And if the latter, why accuse, why not respect, even venerate?
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I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
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I never knew how soothing trees are-many trees and patches of open sunlight, and tree presences; it is almost like having another being.
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The Spirit of Place [does not] exert its full influence upon a newcomer until the old inhabitant is dead or absorbed. So America.... The moment the last nuclei of Red [Indian] life break up in America, then the white men will have to reckon with the full force of the demon of the continent.
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We ought to dance with rapture that we should be alive and in the flesh, and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.
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Previously, even in Egypt, men had not learned to see straight. They fumbled in the dark, and didn't quite know where they were, or what they were. Like men in a dark room, they only felt their existence surging in the darkness of other creatures. We, however, have learned to see ourselves for what we are, as the sun sees us. The Kodak bears witness.
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The unhappiness of a wife with a good husband is much more devastating than the unhappiness of a wife with a bad husband.
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One man isn't any better than another, not because they are equal, but because they are intrinsically other, that there is no termof comparison.
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I believe that a man is converted when first he hears the low, vast murmur of life, of human life, troubling his hitherto unconscious self.
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Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to about the same thing.
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Eat and carouse with Bacchus, or munch dry bread with Jesus, but don't sit down without one of the gods.
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I think societal instinct much deeper than sex instinct — and societal repression much more devastating.
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Art is a form of supremely delicate awareness and atonement — meaning atoneness, the state of being at one with the object.
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Curse the blasted, jelly-boned swines, the slimy, the belly-wriggling invertebrates, the miserable soddingrotters, the flaming sods, the sniveling, dribbling, dithering, palsied, pulse-less lot that make up England today. They've got white of egg in their veins, and their spunk is that watery it's a marvel they can breed.
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The words themselves are clean, so are the things to which they apply. But the mind drags in a filthy association, calls up some repulsive emotion. Well, then, cleanse the mind, that is the real job. It is the mind which is the Augean stables, not language.
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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.
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Of course Celia shits! Who doesn't? And how much worse if she didn't.
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Most men have a deadness in them that frightens me so because of my own deadness. Why can't men get their life straight, like St.Mawr, and then think? Why can't they think quick, mother: quick as a woman: only farther than we do?
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Once you abstract from this, once you generalize and postulate Universals, you have departed from the creative reality, and entered the realm of static fixity, mechanism, materialism.
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Money poisons you when you've got it, and starves you when you haven't.