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Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
For he seemed to me again like a king, Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld, Now due to be crowned again.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
If a woman hasn't got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she is a dry stick as a rule.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And I should die there smothered.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Beauty is a mystery. You can neither eat it nor make flannel out of it.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Now in November nearer comes the sun down the abandoned heaven.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
A snake came to my water trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pajamas for the heat, To drink there.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Build then the ship of death, for you must take the longest journey, to oblivion.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Oh build your ship of death. Oh build it! For you will need it. For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Necessary, forever necessary, to burn out false shames and smelt the heaviest ore of the body into purity.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
It grew late. Through the open door, stealthily, came the scent of madonna lilies, almost as if it were prowling abroad.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
Art-speech is the only truth. An artist is usually a damned liar, but his art, if it be art, will tell you the truth of his day.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
How beastly the bourgeois is especially the male of the species.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
The peasants of Sicily, who have kept their own wheat and make their own natural brown bread, ah, it is amazing how fresh and sweet and clean their loaf seems, so perfumed, as home-made bread used all to be before the war.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
We are dying, we are dying, piecemeal our bodies are dying and our strength leaves us, and our soul cowers naked in the dark rain over the flood, cowering in the last branches of the tree of our life.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
When one jumps over the edge, one is bound to land somewhere.
—  David Herbert Lawrence
How the horse dominated the mind of the early races, especially of the Mediterranean! You were a lord if you had a horse. Far back, far back in our dark soul the horse prances ... The horse, the horse! The symbol of surging potency and power of movement, of action, in man.
—  David Herbert Lawrence

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