D. H. Lawrence Soul Quotations

One must learn to love, and go through a good deal of suffering to get to it... and the journey is always towards the other soul.

The human soul needs actual beauty more than bread.

It is so much more difficult to live with one's body than with one's soul. One's body is so much more exacting: what it won't have it won't have, and nothing can make bitter into sweet.

Myth is an attempt to narrate a whole human experience, of which the purpose is too deep, going too deep in the blood and soul, for mental explanation or description.

The soul is a very perfect judge of her own motions, if your mind doesn't dictate to her.

Nothing that comes from the deep, passional soul is bad, or can be bad.

The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.

Beauty is an experience, nothing else. It is not a fixed pattern or an arrangement of features. It is something felt, a glow or a communicated sense of fineness.

Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul.

The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted.

My belief is in the blood and flesh as being wiser than the intellect. The body-unconsciou s is where life bubbles up in us. It is how we know that we are alive, alive to the depths of our souls and in touch somewhere with the vivid reaches of the cosmos.

Far back, far back in our dark soul the horse prances.

Sing then the core of dark and absolute oblivion where the soul at last is lost in utter peace.

You don't learn algebra with your blessed soul. Can't you look at it with your clear simple wits?

How can any man be free without a soul of his own, that he believes in and won't sell at any price?

When the emotional soul receives a wounding shock, the soul seems to recover as the body recovers. But this is only in appearance. Slowly, slowly the wound to the soul begins to make itself felt, like a bruise, which only slowly deepens its terrible ache, till it fills all the psyche. And when we think we have recovered and forgotten, it is then that the terrible after-effects have to be encountered at their worst.

And in this passion for understanding her soul lay close to his; she had him all to herself. But he must be made abstract first.

There was a warmth of fury in his last phrases. He meant she loved him more than he her. Perhaps he could not love her. Perhaps she had not in herself that which he wanted. It was the deepest motive of her soul, this self-mistrust. It was so deep she dared neither realise nor acknowledge. Perhaps she was deficient. Like an infinitely subtle shame, it kept her always back. If it were so, she would do without him. She would never let herself want him. She would merely see.

But the effort, the effort! And as the marrow is eaten out of a man's bones and the soul out of his belly, contending with the strange rapacity of savage life, the lower stage of creation, he cannot make the effort any more.

Pure morality is only an instinctive adjustment which the soul makes.

The great home of the soul is the open road.

Nobody can have the soul of me. My mother has had, and nobody can have it again. Nobody can come into my very self again, and breathe me like an atmosphere.

One should stick by one's soul, and by nothing else. In one's soul, one knows the truth from the untruth, and life from death. And if one betrays one's own soul-knowledge one is the worst of traitors.

That is almost the whole of Russian literature: the phenomenal coruscations of the souls of quite commonplace people.

My soul is my great asset and my great misfortune.

The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic and a killer