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It's bad taste to be wise all the time, like being at a perpetual funeral.
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
Wise
Wisdom
Literature
Time
Like
Funeral
Perpetual
Taste
More quotes by D. H. Lawrence
How the horse dominated the mind of the early races especially of the Mediterranean! You were a lord if you had a horse. Far back, far back in our dark soul the horse prances...The horse, the horse! The symbol of surging potency and power of movement, of action in man!
D. H. Lawrence
Be a good animal, true to your animal instincts.
D. H. Lawrence
Recklessness is almost a man's revenge on his woman. He feels he is not valued so he will risk destroying himself to deprive her altogether.
D. H. Lawrence
Only in a novel are all things given full play.
D. H. Lawrence
It is quite true, as some poets said, that the God who created man must have had a sinister sense of humor, creating him a reasonable being, yet forcing him to take this ridiculous posture, and driving him with blind craving for this ridiculous performance.
D. H. Lawrence
The modern pantheist not only sees the god in everything, he takes photographs of it.
D. H. Lawrence
I am part of the sun as my eye is part of me. That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea. There is not any part of me that is alone and absolute except my mind, and we shall find that the mind has no existence by itself, it is only the glitter of the sun on the surfaces of the water.
D. H. Lawrence
That's it! When you come to know men, that's how they are: too sensitive in the wrong place.
D. H. Lawrence
Evil, what is evil? There is only one evil, to deny life As Rome denied Etruria And mechanical America Montezuma still
D. H. Lawrence
Most fatal, most hateful of all things is bullying.... Sensual bullying of course is fairly easily detected. What is more dangerous is ideal bullying. Bullying people into what is ideally good for them.
D. H. Lawrence
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.
D. H. Lawrence
The trains roared by like projectiles level on the darkness, fuming and burning, making the valley clang with their passage. They were gone, and the lights of the towns and villages glittered in silence.
D. H. Lawrence
At a wavering instant the swallows gave way to bats By the Ponte Vecchio . . . Changing guard.
D. H. Lawrence
Tragedy looks to me like man in love with his own defeat. Which is only a sloppy way of being in love with yourself.
D. H. Lawrence
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.
D. H. Lawrence
Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved. The warmth, the security and peace of soul, the utter comfort from the touch of the other, knits the sleep, so that it takes the body and soul completely in its healing.
D. H. Lawrence
The Brangwens had lived for generations on the Marsh Farm, in the meadows where the Erewash twisted sluggishly through alder trees, separating Derbyshire from Nottinghamshire.
D. H. Lawrence
The Spanish wine, my God, it is foul, catpiss is champagne compared, this is the sulphurous urination of some aged horse.
D. H. Lawrence
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me?
D. H. Lawrence
California is a queer place in a way, it has turned its back on the world, and looks into the void Pacific. It is absolutely selfish, very empty, but not false, and at least, not full of false effort.
D. H. Lawrence
