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It is not peace we seek but meaning.
Lawrence Durrell
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Lawrence Durrell
Age: 78 †
Born: 1912
Born: January 1
Died: 1990
Died: November 8
Autobiographer
Biographer
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Visual Artist
Writer
Jullundur
Seek
Meaning
Passion
Peace
More quotes by Lawrence Durrell
It’s only with great vulgarity that you can achieve real refinement, only out of bawdry that you can get tenderness.
Lawrence Durrell
There is no pain compared to that of loving a woman who makes her body accessible to one and yet who is incapable of delivering her true self -- because she does not know where to find it.
Lawrence Durrell
It only takes one match to ignite a haystack, or one remark to fire a mind.
Lawrence Durrell
History is an endless repetition of the wrong way of living.
Lawrence Durrell
They flower spontaneously out of the demands of our natures - and the best of them lead us not only outward in space, but inward as well.
Lawrence Durrell
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.
Lawrence Durrell
I don’t believe one reads to escape reality. A person reads to confirm a reality he knows is there, but which he has not experienced.
Lawrence Durrell
An idea is like a rare bird which cannot be seen. What one sees is the trembling of the branch it has just left.
Lawrence Durrell
Art like life is an open secret.
Lawrence Durrell
To be the equal of reality you must learn how to ignore it without danger.
Lawrence Durrell
Old age is an insult. It's like being smacked.
Lawrence Durrell
Truth is a woman. That is why it is enigmatic.
Lawrence Durrell
Love joins and then divides. How else would we be growing?
Lawrence Durrell
How grudging memory is, and how bitterly she clutches the raw material of her daily work.
Lawrence Durrell
Odd, isn't it? He really was the right man for her in a sort of way but then as you know, it is a law of love that the so-called 'right' person always comes to soon or too late.
Lawrence Durrell
I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.
Lawrence Durrell
Frost in January minus 20 for a week. Dead birds frozen on the branch—they fall with the first thaw like ripe fruit—death-ripened. We shall all end like them—just a stain in the snow.
Lawrence Durrell
Guilt always hurries towards its complement, punishment: only there does its satisfaction lie.
Lawrence Durrell
Truth disappears with the telling of it.
Lawrence Durrell
Let us define 'man' as a poet perpetually conspiring against himself.
Lawrence Durrell