D. H. Lawrence
D. H. Lawrence
David Herbert Richards Lawrencewas an English novelist, poet, playwright, essayist, literary critic and painter who published as D. H. Lawrence. His collected works, among other things, represent an extended reflection upon the dehumanising effects of modernity and industrialisation. In them, some of the issues Lawrence explores are emotional health, vitality, spontaneity and instinct...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth11 September 1885
death dying rising
We are dying, we are dying, we are all of us dying and nothing will stay the death-flood rising within us and soon it will rise on the world, on the outside world.
death mother women
Most men have a deadness in them that frightens me so because of my own deadness. Why can't men get their life straight, like St.Mawr, and then think? Why can't they think quick, mother: quick as a woman: only farther than we do?
death fall autumn
Now it is autumn and the falling fruit and the long journey towards oblivion. The apples falling like great drops of dew to bruise themselves an exit from themselves.
death wall journey
O pity the dead that are dead, but cannot make the journey, still they moan and beat against the silvery adamant walls of life's exclusive city.
death journey ships
Build then the ship of death, for you must take the longest journey, to oblivion.
life death real
Only this shimmeriness is the real living. The shape is a dead crust. The shimmer is inside really.
death vanity broken
The near touch of death may be a release into life; if only it will break the egoistic will, and release that other flow.
death war black
I can only see death and more death, till we are black and swollen with death.
across against bright dark death drown eyes fire flood good hood lips meet mouth sweet
And down his mouth comes to my mouth! and down His bright dark eyes come over me, like a hood Upon my mind! his lips meet mine, and a flood Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown Against him, die, and find death good
christian greatness past venture
I know the greatness of Christianity; it is a past greatness.... I live in 1924, and the Christian venture is done.
blowing blows direction fine wind
Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! / A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time.
almost knew open patches soothing trees
I never knew how soothing trees are - many trees and patches of open sunlight, and tree-presences - it is almost like having another being
feelings individual man mass men purely thoughts tiniest touch
No man is or can be purely individual. The mass of men have only the tiniest touch of individuality: if any. The mass of men live and move, think and feel collectively, and have practically no individual emotions, feelings or thoughts at all. They ar
peace possess
Take nothing, to say: I have it! For you can possess nothing, not even peace.