D. H. Lawrence Quotes

Misery no longer loves company. Nowadays it insists on it.

Maybe men are separated from each other only by the degree of their misery.

Solitude, isolation, are painful things and beyond human endurance.

We are living in dystopia, in a world that is dominated by technology and disconnect, alienation, loneliness, and dysfunction.

I don't think we can be entirely happy seeing such misery around us.

Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.

If misery loves company, misery has company enough.

Too much self-centered attitude, you see, brings, you see, isolation. Result: loneliness, fear, anger. The extreme self-centered attitude is the source of suffering.

Loneliness comes with life.

They'll take everything, even your tears.

Right now, they feel they have lost their voice, and their miseries have increased since my departure.

I guess lyrically they're similar because they're talking about escaping the kind of misery that likes company. 'The Last One Alive,' for me, is very simple. It's just about alienation, really, that causes anger.

I hated my whole childhood, hated it, hated it, hated it. There was no place for me.

We hate our squalor.

Loneliness is the ultimate poverty.

While we yearn for peace, we live in a world burdened with hunger, pain, anguish, loneliness, sickness, and sorrow.

Rude contact with facts chased my visions and dreams quickly away, and in their stead I beheld the horrors, the corruption, the evils and hypocrisy of society, and as I stood among them, a young wife, a great wail of agony went out from my soul.

The biggest disease today is not leprosy or tuberculosis, but rather the feeling of being unwanted.

Loneliness is always there, it's a phase that comes and goes and it is a very difficult phase.

The miseries suffered by our people come more from the shameless exploitation of our countries.

Our epoch has been called the century of work. It is in fact the century of pain, misery and corruption.

Man preys on man; and you mourn for the idle tapestry that decorated a gothic pillar, and the dronish bell that summoned the fat priest to prayer. You mourn for the empty pageant of a name, when slavery flaps her wing, ... Why is our fancy to be appalled by terrific perspectives of a hell beyond the grave? - Hell stalks abroad; - the lash resounds on the slave's naked sides; and the sick wretch, who can no longer earn the sour bread of unremitting labour, steals to a ditch to bid the world a long good night.

The wretched have no friends.

... the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be.

Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening. Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing. Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.