It was the talk that mattered supremely: the impassioned exchange of talk. Love was only a minor accompaniment.

For God’s sake, let us be mennot monkeys minding machinesor sitting with our tails curledwhile the machine amuses us, the radio or film or gramophone.Monkeys with a bland grin on our faces.

He felt if he could not be alone, and if he could not be left alone, he would die.

The living self has one purpose only: to come into its own fullness of being.

And she shrank away again, back into her darkness, and for a long while remained blotted safely away from living.

We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

One sheds ones sickness in books- repeats and presents again ones emotions, to be master of them.

Man is willing to accept woman as an equal, as a man in skirts, as an angel, a devil, a baby-face, a machine, an instrument, a bosom, a womb, a pair of legs, a servant,...

She, who was bored almost to agony, and who had nothing at all to do, she had not time to think even, seriously, of anything. Time being, after all, only the current of the soul...

Democracy in America was never the same as Liberty in Europe. In Europe Liberty was a great life-throb. But in America Democracy was always something anti-life. The greatest democrats, like Abraham Lincoln, had always a...

When along the pavement,Palpitating flames of life,People flicker around me,I forget my bereavement,The gap in the great constellation,The place where a star used to be

Perhaps only people who are capable of real togetherness have that look of being alone in the universe. The others have a certain stickiness, they stick to the mass.

If we sip the wine, we find dreams coming upon us out of the imminent night

We fucked a flame into being

For {she} had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything. And moments followed one another without necessarily belonging to one another.

When one is grown up, money is lying about at one’s service. It is only when one is young that it is rare. Take no thought for money – that always lies to hand.(Women in...

She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.

This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods,...

He toasted his bacon on a fork and caught the drops of fat on his bread; then he put the rasher on his thick slice of bread, and cut off chunks with a clasp-knife, poured...

All the great words, it seemed to Connie were cancelled, for her generation: love, joy, happiness, home, mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead now and dying from day to day.

Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had the same effect, and amounted to about the same thing.

Only youth has a taste of immortality.

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

And who should have the money, indeed, if not your wives? They have everything to do with the money. What idea have you, but to waste it!””Women waste nothing–they couldn’t if they tried,” said Aaron...

Why, oh why must one grow up, why must one inherit this heavy, numbing responsibility of living an undiscovered life? Out of the nothingness and the undifferentiated mass, to make something of herself! But what?...

Human desire is the criterion of all truth and all good. Truth does not lie beyond humanity, but is one of the products of the human mind and feeling. There is really nothing to fear....

In every living thing there is the desire for love.

When we really want to go for something better, we shall smash the old. Until then, any sort of proposal, or making proposals, is no more than a tiresome game for self-important people.

But you don’t fuck me cold-heartedly,’ she protested.’I don’t want to fuck you at all.’Lady Chatterly’s Lover

And they fear nothing, and they respect nothing, the young don’t.

It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration. She knew she had always feared it, for it left her helpless; she feared it still, lest if she adored...

If only you could tell them that living and spending isn’t the same thing.

But a democracy is bound in the end to be obscene, for it is composed of myriad disunited fragments, each fragment assuming to itself a false wholeness, a false individuality. Modern democracy is made up...