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
realms pure
One realm we have never conquered: the pure present.
real experience illusion
An illusion which is a real experience is worth having.
real society purpose
Satire exists for the purpose of killing the social being [for the sake of] the true individual, the real human being.
should-have feels realising
One should feel inside oneself for right and wrong, and should have the patience to gradually realise one's God.
real rip snakes
Sometimes snakes can’t slough. They can’t burst their old skin. Then they go sick and die inside the old skin, and nobody ever sees the new pattern. It needs a real desperate recklessness to burst your old skin at last. You simply don’t care what happens to you, if you rip yourself in two, so long as you do get out.
real reality land
The map appears to us more real than the land.
reality creative departed
Once you abstract from this, once you generalize and postulate Universals, you have departed from the creative reality, and entered the realm of static fixity, mechanism, materialism.
reality knows
God doesn't know things. He is things.
life real cynical
Sometimes life takes hold of one, carries the body along, accomplishes one's history, and yet is not real, but leaves oneself as it were slurred over.
real feelings age
Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.
summer real night
In the short summer night she learned so much. She would have thought a woman would have died of shame... She felt, now, she had come to the real bedrock of her nature, and was essentially shameless. She was her sensual self, naked an unashamed. She felt a triumph, almost a vainglory. So! That was how it was! That was life! That was how onself really was! There was nothing left to disguise or be ashamed of. She shared her ultimate nakedness with a man, another being.
real garden literature
There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street.
memories reality atheism
All vital truth contains the memory of all that for which it is not true.
real parent feelings
But, especially in love, only counterfeit emotions exist nowadays. We have all been taught to mistrust everybody emotionally, from parents downwards, or upwards. Don’t trust anybody with your real emotions: if you’ve got any: that is the slogan of today. Trust them with your money, even, but never with your feelings. They are bound to trample on them.