Lawrence Durrell
Lawrence Durrell
Lawrence George Durrellwas an expatriate British novelist, poet, dramatist, and travel writer...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth27 February 1912
pain self doe
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.
art impact doe
The heaviest impact of the work of art is in the guts. Art does not reason. It manhandles you and changes you...
silence doe quiet
Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?
behavior children dictates measure responsive
We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it
cute-love love nervous philip severe
It's unthinkable not to love --you'd have a severe nervous breakdown. Or you'd have to be Philip Larkin.
believe reality confirmation
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.
women charity fool
The appalling thing is the degree of charity women are capable of. You see it all the time... love lavished on absolute fools. Love's a charity ward, you know.
best demands flower inward lead outward
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.
travel artist journey
Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will-whatever we may think.
opposites matter pleasure
You see, nothing matters except pleasure - which is the opposite of happiness, its tragic part, I expect.
sorrow mass gravitation
Sorrow is implicit in love as gravitation is implicit in mass.
adults realisation
The realisation of one's own death is the point at which one becomes adult.
fall snow bird
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.
love-is enemy warfare
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.