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Life is like a cucumber. One minute it's in your hand, the next it's up you ass.
Lawrence Durrell
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Lawrence Durrell
Age: 78 †
Born: 1912
Born: January 1
Died: 1990
Died: November 8
Autobiographer
Biographer
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Playwright
Poet
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Jullundur
Minutes
Hand
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Hands
Life
Cucumber
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Cucumbers
Ass
Minute
More quotes by Lawrence Durrell
Love joins and then divides. How else would we be growing?
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All culture corrupts, but French culture corrupts absolutely.
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Like all young men I set out to be a genius, but mercifully laughter intervened.
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Comedians are the nearest to suicide.
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Poverty is a great cutter-off and riches a great shutter-off.
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Love is like trench warfare - you cannot see the enemy, but you know he is there and that it is wiser to keep your head down.
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Truth is what most contradicts itself.
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It only takes one match to ignite a haystack, or one remark to fire a mind.
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The cocktail party - as the name itself indicates - was originally invented by dogs. They are simply bottom-sniffings raised to the rank of formal ceremonies.
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I have been thinking about the girl I met last night in the mirror: dark on the marble-ivory white: glossy black hair: deep suspiring eyes in which one's glances sink because they are nervous, curious, turned to sexual curiosity.
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Truth disappears with the telling of it.
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For us artists there waits the joyous compromise through art with all that wounded or defeated us in daily life in this way, not to evade destiny, as the ordinary people try to do, but to fulfil it in its true potential - the imagination.
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Truth is a woman. That is why it is enigmatic.
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Life is more complicated than we think, yet far simpler than anyone dares to imagine
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How grudging memory is, and how bitterly she clutches the raw material of her daily work.
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Art—the meaning of the pattern of our common actions in reality. The cloth-of-gold that hides behind the sackcloth of reality, forced out by the pain of human memory.
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A diary is the last place to go if you wish to seek the truth about a person. Nobody dares to make the final confession to themselves on paper: or at least, not about love.
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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.
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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
Everything really desirable has come about because of, or in spite of, wine!
Lawrence Durrell
