though it's a shame, what's been done to people these last hundred years: men turned into nothing but labor-insects, and all their manhood taken away, and all their real life. i'd wipe the machines off the face of the earth again, and end the industrial epoch absolutely, like a black mistake. but since i can't, an' nobody can, i'd better hold my peace, an' try an' life my own life: if i've got one to live, which i rather doubt.

D.H. Lawrence

Mots clés lady-chatterley-s-lover



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Their whole life depends on spending money, and now they’ve
got none to spend. That’s our civilization and our education: bring up
the masses to depend entirely on spending money, and then the money
gives out.

D.H. Lawrence


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- Te iubesc foarte mult.. dar undeva, lipsește ceva.
- Unde? întrebă ea privindu-l.
-O, înăuntru, în mine. Eu ar trebui să mă rușinez.. sunt un olog psihic.

D.H. Lawrence


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Cu tine nu comunic prin simțuri, ci prin spirit. De asta nu ne putem iubi în înțelesul comun. Afecțiunea noastră nu este dintre acelea pe care le întâlnești la tot pasul. Și totuși suntem muritori de rând, și a trăi unul alături de celălalt ar fi cumplit, deoarece cu tine nu pot fi carnal și, știi tu, a viețui de-a pururi mai presus de aceasta a muritorului de rând ar însemna s-o pierzi cu totul.

D.H. Lawrence


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So he was always in the town at one place or another, drinking, knocking about with the men he knew. It really wearied him. He talked to barmaids, to almost any woman, but there was that dark, strained look in his eyes, as if he were hunting something.

Everything seemed so different, so unreal. There seemed no reason why people should go along the street, and houses pile up in the daylight. There seemed no reason why these things should occupy the space, instead of leaving it empty. His friends talked to him: he heard the sounds, and he answered. But why there should be the noise of speech he could not understand.

D.H. Lawrence

Mots clés language drinking suicide isolation alienation meaninglessness unreality



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Her lungs felt thick and slow, her mind dissolved, she felt she could cling like a bat in the long swoon of the crannied, underword darkness. Cling like a bat and sway for ever swooning in the draughts of the darkness ---

D.H. Lawrence


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Mr Hemingway does it extremely well. Nothing matters. Everything happens. One wants to keep oneself loose. Avoid one thing only: gettng connected up. Don't get connected up. If you get held by anything, break it. Don't be held. Break it, and get away. Don't get away with the idea of getting somewhere else. Just get away, for the sake of getting away. Beat it! “Well, boy, I guess I'll beat it.” Ah, the pleasure in saying that

D.H. Lawrence

Mots clés letters modern hemingway calendar lawrence



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She came upon a bankside of lavender crocuses. The sun was on them for the moment, and they were opened flat, great five-pointed, seven-pointed lilac stars, with burning centres, burning with a strange lavender flame, as she had seen some metal burn lilac-flamed in the laboratory of the hospital at Islington. All down and oak-dry bankside they burned their great exposed stars. And she felt like going down on her knees and bending her forehead to the earth in an oriental submission, they were so royal, so lovely, so supreme. She came again to them in the morning, when the sky was grey, and they were closed, sharp clubs, wonderfully fragile on their stems of sap, among leaves and old grass and wild periwinkle. They had wonderful dark stripes running up their cheeks, the crocuses, like the clear proud stripes on a badger’s face, or on some proud cat. She took a handful of the sappy, shut, striped flames. In her room they opened into a grand bowl of lilac fire.

D.H. Lawrence


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Whatever life may be, and whatever horror men have made of it, the world is a lovely place, something to marvel over. The world is an amazing place.

D.H. Lawrence


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Every individual should, by nature, have his extraordinary points. But nowadays, you may look for them with a microscope, they are so worn-down by the regular machine-friction of our average and mechanical days.

D.H. Lawrence


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