I can’t bear art that you can walk round and …– D. H. Lawrence
I can’t bear art that you can walk round and admire. A book should be either a bandit or a rebel or a man in
I can’t bear art that you can walk round and admire. A book should be either a bandit or a rebel or a man in
Reason is a supple nymph, and slippery as a fish by nature. She had as leave give her kiss to an absurdity any day, as
California is a queer place in a way, it has turned its back on the world, and looks into the void Pacific. It is absolutely
The day of the absolute is over, and we’re in for the strange gods once more.
The novel is the highest form of human expression so far attained. Why? Because it is so incapable of the absolute.
You don’t want to love – your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren’t positive, you’re negative. You absorb, absorb, as if
This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us. This makes us secret and rotten.
Tragedy is like strong acid – it dissolves away all but the very gold of truth.
Creation destroys as it goes, throws down one tree for the rise of another. But ideal mankind would abolish death, multiply itself million upon million,
Having achieved and accomplished love… man… has become himself, his tale is told.
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