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The # cosmos is a vast living body, of which we are still parts.
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
Parts
Living
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Still
Body
Astrology
Cosmos
Vast
More quotes by D. H. Lawrence
If we lose our sanity ... We can but howl the lugubrious howl of idiots, the howl of the utterly lost howling their nowhereness.
D. H. Lawrence
My great religion is a belief in the blood, the flesh, as being wiser than the intellect. We can go wrong in our minds. But what our blood feels and believes and says, is always true. The intellect is only a bit and a bridle.
D. H. Lawrence
It seems to me a purely lyric poet gives himself, right down to his sex, to his mood, utterly and abandonedly, whirls himself roundtill he spontaneously combusts into verse. He has nothing that goes on, no passion, only a few intense moods, separate like odd stars, and when each has burned away, he must die.
D. H. Lawrence
Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world, chop the world down to fit yourself.
D. H. Lawrence
In my very own self, I am part of my family.
D. H. Lawrence
That was the birth of sin. Not doing it, but KNOWING about it. Before the apple, [Adam and Eve] had shut their eyes and their minds had gone dark. Now, they peeped and pried and imagined. They watched themselves.
D. H. Lawrence
Death is ... a travelling asunder into elemental chaos. And from the elemental chaos all is cast forth again into creation. Therefore death also is but a cul-de-sac, a melting-pot.
D. H. Lawrence
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!
D. H. Lawrence
Consciousness is an end in itself. We torture ourselves getting somewhere, and when we get there it is nowhere, for there is nowhere to get to.
D. H. Lawrence
there is no pornography without a secrecy.
D. H. Lawrence
The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.
D. H. Lawrence
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.
D. H. Lawrence
The deadly Hydra now is the hydra of Equality. Liberty, Equality and Fraternity is the three-fanged serpent.
D. H. Lawrence
A man was like a child with his appetites. A woman had to yield him what he wanted, or like a child he would probably turn nasty and flounce away and spoil what was a very pleasant connection.
D. H. Lawrence
The history of our era is the nauseating and repulsive history of the crucifixion of the procreative body for the glorification ofthe spirit.
D. H. Lawrence
Why were we driven out of Paradise? Why did we fall into this gnawing disease of unappeasable dissatisfaction? Not because we sinned. Ah, no. All the animals in Paradise enjoyed the sensual passion of coition. Not because we sinned. But because we got sex into our head.
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
That's just what a woman is. She thinks she knows what's good for a man, and she's going to see he gets it and no matter if he's starving, he may sit and whistle for what he needs, while she's got him, and is giving him what's good for him.
D. H. Lawrence
But that is how men are! Ungrateful and never satisfied. When you don't have them they hate you because you won't and when you do have them they hate you again, for some other reason. Or for no reason at all, except that they are discontented children, and can't be satisfied whatever they get, let a woman do what she may.
D. H. Lawrence
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.
D. H. Lawrence
