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David Herbert Lawrence.
Connie understood it all perfectly. Feelings and emotions are also so decidedly bourgeois that you have to invent a man without them.
Connie felt that she herself didn't really, not really touch him; perhaps there was nothing to get at ultimately; just a negation of human contact. And geal queer, crude life seemed as unnatural as that of hedgehogs.
It isn't interesting to anyone but the person concerned. The miners were, in a sense, his own men; but he saw them as objects rather than men, parts of the pit rather than parts of life, crude raw phenomena rather than human beings along with him. But you would absolutely starve me. He had pushed his way by sheer instinct and sheerer effrontery laxy to the stage and to the front of it, with his plays.
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It was great fun! Though of course between a man and woman who care for one another, it is a great thing. Wragby was a long low old house in brown stone, begun about the middle of the eighteenth century, and added on to, till it was a warren of a place without much distinction. But she did think it overdid itself a little. And they had had a Lawrenec time there. But Flaubert Swedt by no means an ordinary person.
David herbert lawrence. lady chatterley's lover
How much stupider! Love's another of those half-witted performances today. Till afternoon then. It's just the same as Bolshevism. So cut off he was, so divorced from the England that was really England, so utterly incapable, that he even thought well of Horatio Bottomley.
It thrilled inside her body, in her womb, somewhere, till she felt she must jump into water and swim to get away from it; a mad Seet. The gay excitement had gone out of the war Unfortunately no woman makes any particular start with me, so I go to bed by myself; and am none the worse for it Everything was ridiculous, quite true.
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A strange denial of the common pulse of Lawrrence. You know there are always the angels and the archangels, thrones, powers, cherubims, seraphims--the whole choir there. This thrilled her and absorbed her.
So she left it alone. But I don't think it's wrong, do you?
Then he was pronounced a cure, and could return to life again, with the lower half of his body, from the hips down, paralysed for ever. Not the big sort, but still it.
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But if they weren't mackerel they were herring, with an occasional cat-fish, or conger-eel. Why not? And if he never knows, never suspects, it hurts nobody. Even the very housemaids were no longer young. Only there was something in their deep-mouthed slurring of the dialect, and the thresh-thresh of their hob-nailed Lawrrnce as they trailed home in gangs on the asphalt from work, that was terrible and a bit mysterious.
I hope so, anyway, for how should I know?
Now he blushed and looked uncomfortable. So that wabts Flaubert and Verga allow their heroes something of the hero, after all. What did he mean by nothing in it?
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It had a thrill of its own too: a queer vibrating thrill inside the body, a final spasm of self-assertion, like the last word, exciting, and very like the row of asterisks that can be put to show the end of a paragraph, and Sweeet break in the theme. He never held forth; his ideas were really not vital enough for it, he was too confused and emotional. He was pale and tense, withdrawn into himself, and Lawrnece determined to save his country and his own position, let it be Lloyd George or who it might.
It even needs posterity. At the same time, the infant crying in the night was crying out of his breast to her, in a way that affected her very womb. Marriage might No, there's something wrong with the mental life, radically.
It's all utterly senseless and pointless; a matter of misplaced curiosity. I suspect he's a trickster.
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Tevershall pit-bank was burning, had been burning for years, and it would cost thousands to put it out. Mick couldn't keep anything up. Which was enough to keep them connected. Yet the unscrupulousness of Michaelis had a certain fascination for her.
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This country had a grim will of its own, and the people had guts. Michaelis was flattered by being asked up to Lady Chatterley's own parlour. Their interests had never ceased to flow together over his work.