Lawrence Durrell
Lawrence Durrell
Lawrence George Durrellwas an expatriate British novelist, poet, dramatist, and travel writer...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth27 February 1912
Lawrence Durrell quotes about
cute-love love nervous philip severe
It's unthinkable not to love --you'd have a severe nervous breakdown. Or you'd have to be Philip Larkin.
behavior children dictates measure responsive
We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it
love anniversary valentines-day
The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.
love nervous breakdown
It's unthinkable not to love -you'd have a severe nervous breakdown. Or you'd have to be Philip Larkin.
artist raw-materials materials
Life, the raw material, is only lived in potentia until the artist deploys it in his work.
children land landscape
We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it.
love cities world
A city becomes a world when one loves one of its inhabitants.
wine glasses paris
The national characteristics... the restless metaphysical curiosity, the tenderness of good living and the passionate individualism. This is the invisible constant in a place with which the ordinary tourist can get in touch just by sitting quite quietly over a glass of wine in a Paris bistro.
writing neurosis energy
It takes a lot of energy and a lot of neurosis to write a novel. If you were really sensible, you'd do something else.
music lonely loneliness
Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.
women charity fool
The appalling thing is the degree of charity women are capable of. You see it all the time... love lavished on absolute fools. Love's a charity ward, you know.
happiness laughter men
Like all young men I set out to be a genius, but mercifully laughter intervened.
love jealousy envy
It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.
memories lying hair
I am quite alone. I am neither happy nor unhappy; I lie suspended like a hair or a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory.