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D. H. Lawrence Quotes - Page 21

All Quotes Age Aging Art Atheism Autumn Awareness Beauty Being Yourself Belief Bones Change Children Communication Consciousness Country Courage Creation Darkness Death Democracy Depression Desire Dying Earth Education Effort Equality Evil Experience Falling In Love Fate Feelings Fighting Freedom Friendship Giving God Gold Hate Heart History Home House Humanity Individualism Insanity Inspirational Intuition Jesus Journey Joy Judging Justice Knowledge Language Leadership Liberty Life Literature Loss Love Lying Madness Magic Mankind Marriage Money Moon Morality Morning Mountain Nature Oblivion Pain Passion Past Peace Perfection Poetry Positive Psychology Purpose Rain Reading Reality Religion Responsibility Romance Running Sanity Science Self Pity Shame Sin Singing Sleep Society Soul Spring Struggle Suffering Sympathy Time Tragedy Travel Virtue Vision Waiting War Water Weakness Wife Wisdom Writing Youth

O pity the dead that are dead, but cannot make the journey, still they moan and beat against the silvery adamant walls of life's exclusive city.

O pity the dead that are dead, but cannot make the journey, still they moan and beat against the silvery adamant walls of life's exclusive city.

Death, Wall, Journey

Behold then Septimus Dodge returning to Dodge-town victorious. Not crowned with laurel, it is true, but wreathed in lists of things he has seen and sucked dry. Seen and sucked dry, you know: Venus de Milo, the Rhine or the Coliseum: swallowed like so many clams, and left the shells.

Travel, Venus De Milo, Society

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.8209, Delphi Classics

If we had reverence for our life, our life would take at once religious form. But as it is, in our filthy irreverence, it remains a disgusting slough, where each one of us goes so thoroughly disguised in dirt that we are all alike and indistinguishab

Religious, Dirt, Irreverence

D. H. Lawrence, Bruce Steele (1985). “Study of Thomas Hardy and Other Essays”, p.122, Cambridge University Press

And it seems to me a blasphemy to say that the Holy Spirit is Love. In the Old Testament it is an Eagle: in the New it is a Dove.Christ insists on the Dove: but in His supreme moments He includes the Eagle.

Love, Bible, Eagles

It seems to me absolutely true, that our world, which appears to us the surface of all things, is really the bottom of a deep ocean: all our trees are submarine growths, and we are weird, scaly-clad submarine fauna, feeding ourselves on offal like shrimps. Only occasionally the soul rises gasping through the fathomless fathoms under which we live, far up to the surface of the ether, where there is true air.

Ocean, Our World, Air

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.3924, Delphi Classics

If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge Driven by invisible blows, The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.

Blow, Rocks, Splits

D. H. Lawrence (2008). “Complete Poems by Lawrence: Easyread Super Large 24pt Edition”, p.184, ReadHowYouWant.com

Nobody can have the soul of me. My mother has had, and nobody can have it again. Nobody can come into my very self again, and breathe me like an atmosphere.

Mother, Self, Soul

Reach me a gentian, give me a torch! let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower

Flower, Blue, Giving

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.7123, Delphi Classics

And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place - even the butterfly. But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.

Flower, Butterfly, Wings

I've never seen a wild thing feel sorry for itself.

Sorry, Wild Things, Feels

The Aztec gods and goddesses are, as far as we have known anything about them, an unlovely and unlovable lot. In their myths there is no grace or charm, no poetry. Only this perpetual grudge, grudge, grudging, one god grudging another, the gods grudging men their existence, and men grudging the animals. The goddess of love is goddess of dirt and prostitution, a dirt-eater, a horror, without a touch of tenderness.

Animal, Love Is, Men

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.7472, Delphi Classics

It's hard to ravish a tin of sardines.

Tin, Sardines, Hard

No creature is fully itself till it is, like the dandelion, opened in the bloom of pure relationship to the sun, the entire living cosmos.

Being Yourself, Being Single, Cosmos

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.8420, Delphi Classics

The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear

Autumn, Scent, November

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.4223, Delphi Classics

Censors are dead men set up to judge between life and death. For no live, sunny man would be a censor, he'd just laugh.

Men, Life And Death, Laughing

D. H. Lawrence (2008). “Complete Poems by Lawrence: Easyread Super Large 24pt Edition”, p.431, ReadHowYouWant.com

Yea, Paris is a festive ton -- a festive Ton for all! Skate o'er on joy -- Thin crust of gilded, polished joy! What matters it if Hell's beneath?

What Matters, Paris, Joy

I'd be ashamed to see a woman walking around with my name-label on her, address and railway station, like a wardrobe trunk.

Fashion, Names, Labels

D. H. Lawrence (2016). “Lady chatterleys lover”, p.40, D. H. Lawrence

When the emotional soul receives a wounding shock, the soul seems to recover as the body recovers. But this is only in appearance. Slowly, slowly the wound to the soul begins to make itself felt, like a bruise, which only slowly deepens its terrible ache, till it fills all the psyche. And when we think we have recovered and forgotten, it is then that the terrible after-effects have to be encountered at their worst.

Emotional, Thinking, Soul

The only reality was nothingness, and over it a hypocrisy of words.

Reality, Hypocrisy, Over It

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.3730, Delphi Classics

How can any man be free without a soul of his own, that he believes in and won't sell at any price?

Believe, Men, Soul

D. H. Lawrence, Ezra Greenspan, Lindeth Vasey (2003). “Studies in Classic American Literature”, p.29, Cambridge University Press

I believe a man is born first unto himself - for the happy developing of himself, while the world is a nursery, and the pretty things are to be snatched for, and pleasant things tasted; some people seem to exist thus right to the end. But most are born again on entering manhood; then they are born to humanity, to a consciousness of all the laughing, and the never-ceasing murmur of pain and sorrow that comes from the terrible multitudes of brothers.

Brother, Pain, Believe

D. H. Lawrence, James T. Boulton (2000). “The Selected Letters of D. H. Lawrence”, p.7, Cambridge University Press

The mystery of the evening-star brilliant in silence and distance between the downward-surging plunge of the sun and the vast, hollow seething of inpouring night. The magnificence of the watchful morning-star, that watches between the night and the day, the gleaming clue to the two opposites.

Morning, Stars, Distance

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.3360, Delphi Classics

Not that the Red Indian will ever possess the broad lands of America. At least I presume not. But his ghost will.

Native American, Land, Red

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.8205, Delphi Classics

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

Spring, Fire, Flames

D.H. Lawrence (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated)”, p.6168, Delphi Classics

Every new stroke of civilization has cost the lives of countless brave men, who have fallen defeated by the dragon, in their efforts to win the apples of the Hesperides, or the fleece of gold. Fallen in their efforts to overcome the old, half sordid savagery of the lower stages of creation, and win the next stage.

Winning, Men, Dragons

D. H. Lawrence (1956). “The Virgin and the Gipsy”

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