Quotes from D.H. Lawrence

Continuaré tirando pan al agua; y si mis hijos vuelven algún día, seré feliz.

Yet there she stood under the self-accusation of wanting him, tied to that stake of torture.

And all the sky was teeming and tearing along, a vast disorder of flying shapes and darkness and ragged fumes of light and a great brown circling halo, then the terror of a moon running liquid-brilliant into the open for a moment, hurting the eyes before she plunged under cover of cloud again.

One wonders what the proper high-brow Romans ... read into the strange utterances of Lucretius or Apuleius or Tertullian, Augustine or Athanasius. The uncanny voice of Iberian Spain, the weirdness of old Carthage, the passion of Libya and North Africa.

And with trembling, excited hands she put the coveted stockings under Ursula's pillow. 'One gets the greatest joy of all out of really lovely stockings,' said Ursula. 'One does,' replied Gudrun; 'the greatest joy of all.

You're spending your life without renewing it. You've got to be amused, properly, healthily amused. You're spending your vitality without making any. Can't go on, you know. Depression! Avoid depression!

The hard air was still sulphureous, but they were both used to it. Round the near horizon went the haze, opalescent with frost and smoke, and on the top lay the small blue sky; so that it was like being inside an enclosure, always inside. Life always a dream or a frenzy, inside an enclosure.

Sunday night meant, in the dark, wintry, rainy Midlands ... anywhere where two creatures might stand and squeeze together and spoon.... Spooning was a fine art, whereas kissing and cuddling are calf-processes.

Those are the little seed-producing flowers, and the long catkins, they only produce pollen, to fertilise them.' 'Do they, do they!' repeated Hermione, looking closely. 'From those little red bits, the nuts come; if they receive pollen from the long danglers.

There was a certain pathos. The wood still had some of the mystery of wild, old England; but Sir Geoffrey's cuttings during the war had given it a blow. How still the trees were, with their crinkly, innumerable twigs against the sky, and their grey, obstinate trunks rising from the brown bracken! How safely the birds flitted among them! And once there had been deer, and archers, and monks padding along on asses. The place remembered, still remembered.

She felt almost upper class; and at the same time a resentment against the ruling class smouldered in her. The masters!

Bolshevism, it seems to me,' said Charlie, 'is just a superlative hatred of the thing they call the bourgeois; and what the bourgeois is, isn't quite defined. It is Capitalism, among other things. Feelings and emotions are also so decidedly bourgeois that you have to invent a man without them.

La sociedad era horrible porque estaba loca. La sociedad civilizada es un despropósito. El dinero y el llamado amor son sus dos grandes manías; con el dinero muy a la cabeza. En su inconexa locura el individuo se identifica a sí mismo de esas dos formas: dinero y amor

There was a glimmer of nightly rabbits across the ground.

But he had been so much hurt that something inside him had perished, some of his feelings had gone. There was a blank of insentience.

She could hear a distant coughing of a sheep.

But beneath the populace of pleasure lay the populace of work, grim, grimy, and rather terrible.

Time went on. Whatever happened, nothing happened, because she was so beautifully out of contact.

She was so reserved, he felt she had much to reserve.

The world is supposed to be full of possibilities, but they narrow down to pretty few in most personal experience.

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A bird will fall frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.

Unthinkable clothing

A man never is quite such an abject specimen as his wife makes him look

We have buried so much of the delicate magic of life.