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!

D.H. Lawrence

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Always this same morbid interest in other people and their doings, their privacies, their dirty linen, always this air of alertness for personal happenings, personalities, personalities, personalities. Always this subtle criticism and appraisal of other people, this analysis of other people’s motives. If anatomy presupposes a corpse, then psychology presupposes a world of corpses. Personalities, which means personal criticism and analysis, presuppose a whole world laboratory of human psyches waiting to be vivisected. If you cut a thing up, of course it will smell. Hence, nothing raises such an infernal stink, at last, as human psychology.

D.H. Lawrence

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When I read Shakespeare I am struck with wonder that such trivial people should muse and thunder in such lovely language.

D.H. Lawrence

Mots clés shakespeare literature language

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I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.

D.H. Lawrence

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I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.

D.H. Lawrence

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Lies About Love

We are all liars, because
The truth of yesterday
becomes a lie tomorrow,
Whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.
The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love! love!
as if it were a coin with fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.

D.H. Lawrence

Mots clés love

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I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.

D.H. Lawrence

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She had not the strength to come to life now, in England, so foreign, skies so hostile. She knew she would die like an early, colourless, scentless flower that the end of the winter puts forth
mercilessly. And she wanted to harbour her modicum of twinkling life.

D.H. Lawrence

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She looked at him, and oh, the weariness to her, of the
effort to understand another language, the weariness of hearing
him, attending to him, making out who he was, as he stood there
fair-bearded and alien, looking at her. She knew something of
him, of his eyes. But she could not grasp him. She closed her
eyes.

D.H. Lawrence

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The human soul needs beauty more than bread.

D.H. Lawrence

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