D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
David Herbert Richards Lawrencewas an English novelist, poet, playwright, essayist, literary critic and painter who published as D. H. Lawrence. His collected works, among other things, represent an extended reflection upon the dehumanising effects of modernity and industrialisation. In them, some of the issues Lawrence explores are emotional health, vitality, spontaneity and instinct...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth11 September 1885
falling-in-love men falling-in-love-with-you
I am in love and, my God, it is the greatest thing that can happen to a man.
light space darkness
I wonder which was more frightened among old tribes -- those bursting out of their darkness of woods upon all the space of light, or those from the open tiptoeing into the forests.
attitude nice hate
How I hate the attitude of ordinary people to life. How I loathe ordinariness! How from my soul I abhor nice simple people, with their eternal price list. It makes my blood boil.
hurt body littles
What a frail, easily hurt, rather pathetic thing a human body is, naked; somehow a little unfinished, incomplete!
absolutes
Beware of absolutes. There are many gods.
men rubbish months
Don't talk to me any more about poetry for months -- unless it is other men's work. I really love verse, even rubbish. But I'm fearfully busy at a novel, and brush all the gossamer of verse off my face.
passion littles magnificent
When passion is dead, or absent, then the magnificent throb of beauty is incomprehensible and even a little despicable.
principles life-is this-life
The only principle I can see in this life, is that one must forfeit the less for the greater.
men jewels wire
We do all like to get things inside a barb-wire corral. Especially our fellow-men. We love to round them up inside the barb-wire enclosure of FREEDOM, and make 'em work. Work, you free jewel, WORK! shouts the liberator, cracking his whip.
heart butterfly fighting
Melville had to fight, fight against the existing world, against his own very self. Only he would never quite put the knife in the heart of his paradisal ideal. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, love should be a fulfillment, and life should be a thing of bliss. That was his fixed ideal. Fata Morgana. That was the pin he tortured himself on, like a pinned-down butterfly.
military sick band
If I had my way, I would build a lethal chamber as big as the Crystal Palace, with a military band playing softly, and a Cinematograph working brightly; then I'd go out in the back streets and main streets and bring them in, all the sick, the halt, and the maimed; I would lead them gently, and they would smile me a weary thanks; and the band would softly bubble out the 'Hallelujah Chorus'.
may lucky rich
It's better to be born lucky than rich. If you're rich, you may lose your money, but if you're born lucky, you will always have more money.
sex long cocktails
Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to about the same thing.
lying men process
Mystic equality lies in abstraction, not in having or in doing, which are processes. In function and process, one man, one part, must of necessity be subordinate to another. It is a condition of being.