Quotes from David Herbert Lawrence

The day of the absolute is over, and we're in for the strange gods once more

She couldn't quite, quite love in hopelessness. And he, being hopeless, couldn't ever quite love at all

Non mi fu mai dato di vedere un animale in cordoglio di sé. Un uccelletto cadrà morto di gelo giù dal ramo senza aver provato mai pena per se stesso.

Our leaders have not loved men: they have loved ideas, and have been willing to sacrifice passionate men on the altars of the blood-drinking, ever-ash-thirsty ideal. Has President Wilson, or Karl Marx, or Bernard Shaw ever felt one hot blood-pulse of love for the working man, the half-conscious, deluded working man? Never. Each of these leaders has wanted to abstract him away from his own blood and being, into some foul Methuselah or abstraction of a man.