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
body cosmos great heart knows moon power run smallest sun vast whose
We and the cosmos are one. The cosmos is a vast body, of which we are still parts. The sun is a great heart whose tremors run through our smallest veins. The moon is a great gleaming nerve-centre from which we quiver forever. Who knows the power that
holy humble
Too much of the humble Willy wet-leg / And the holy can't-help-it touch.
loneliness filled-in waiting
It's no good trying to get rid of your own aloneness. You've got to stick to it all your life. Only at times, at times, the gap will be filled in. At times! But you have to wait for the times. Accept your own aloneness and stick to it, all your life. And then accept the times when the gap is filled in, when they come. But they've got to come. You can't force them.
too-much divine destruction
As we all know, too much of any divine thing is destruction
animal thrill want
You don't want to be an animal, you want to observe your own animal functions, so as to get a mental thrill out of them. It is allpurely secondary--and more decadent than the most hide-bound intellectualism.