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All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.
D. H. Lawrence
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D. H. Lawrence
Age: 45 †
Born: 1885
Born: January 1
Died: 1930
Died: January 1
Literary Critic
Novelist
Painter
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Translator
Writer
Eastwood
Nottinghamshire
David Herbert Lawrence
Lawrence H. Davison
D.H. Lawrence
D. H. Lorenss
D. G. Lourens
David Herbert Richards Lawrence
D. H. David Herbert Lawrence
Past
Gains
Would
Warm
Seemed
Wrapped
Eternity
Blanket
Arms
Hopes
Sleep
Necessity
Woman
Gain
Given
Romance
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The # cosmos is a vast living body, of which we are still parts.
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Europe is, perhaps, the least worn-out of the continents, because it is the most lived in. A place that is lived in lives.
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I like to write when I feel spiteful it's like having a good sneeze.
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She looked at him, and oh, the weariness to her, of the effort to understand another language, the weariness of hearing him, attending to him, making out who he was, as he stood there fair-bearded and alien, looking at her. She knew something of him, of his eyes. But she could not grasp him. She closed her eyes.
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The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure.
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Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved.
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When I went to the scientific doctor I realised what a lust there was in him to wreak his so-called science on me and reduce me to the level of a thing. So I said: Good-morning! and left him.
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Oh literature, oh the glorious Art, how it preys upon the marrow in our bones. It scoops the stuffing out of us, and chucks us aside. Alas!
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There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.
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The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.
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There is a brief time for sex, and a long time when sex is out of place. But when it is out of place as an activity there still should be the large and quiet space in the consciousness where it lives quiescent. Old people can have a lovely quiescent sort of sex, like apples, leaving the young quite free for their sort.
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Democracy and equality try to denythe mystic recognition of difference and innate priority, the joy of obedience and the sacred responsibility of authority.
D. H. Lawrence
Naught is possessed, neither gold, nor land nor love, nor life, nor peace, nor even sorrow nor death, nor yet salvation. Say of nothing: It is mine. Say only: It is with me.
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An illusion which is a real experience is worth having.
D. H. Lawrence
Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.
D. H. Lawrence
You must always be a-waggle with LOVE.
D. H. Lawrence
I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.
D. H. Lawrence
Now in November nearer comes the sun down the abandoned heaven.
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In the ancient recipe, the three antidotes for dullness or boredom are sleep, drink, and travel. It is rather feeble. From sleep you wake up, from drink you become sober, and from travel you come home again. And then where are you? No, the two sovereign remedies for dullness are love or a crusade.
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The more I see of democracy the more I dislike it. It just brings everything down to the mere vulgar level of wages and prices, electric light and water closets, and nothing else.
D. H. Lawrence