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All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. it seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.

-D. H. Lawrence

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All Hopes Of Eternity And All Gain

D. H. Lawrence

All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. it seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.

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    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"all hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. it seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— D. H. Lawrence</footer>
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Sleep Romantic Love Past

More From D. H. Lawrence

It is like having a blanket that is too small for the bed, you pull the blanket up to keep your chest warm, and your feet stick out. i cannot buy a bigger blanket because the supermarket is closed. but the blanket i have is made of cashmere. so it's good.

From woman, man is born; within woman, man is conceived; to woman he is engaged and married. woman becomes his friend; through woman, the future generations come. when his woman dies, he seeks another woman; to woman he is bound. so why call her bad? from her, kings are born. from woman, woman is born; without woman, there would be no one at all.

She is sitting on frozen ground wrapped in a blanket, her pale skin shining. she smiles and she stands and without words, she steps forward, opens the blanket, envelops me within it and within her and within myself. she kisses my cheek, the one not torn, she wraps me and she holds me. her arms are thin but strong. she whispers in my ear, "i'm glad you're here.

We are born of woman, we are conceived in the womb of woman, we are engaged and married to woman. we make friendship with woman and the lineage continued because of woman. when one woman dies, we take another one, we are bound with the world through woman. why should we talk ill of her, who gives birth to kings? the woman is born from woman; there is none without her. only the one true lord is without woman

If he looked into her face, he would see those haunted, loving eyes. the hauntedness would irritate him - the love would move him to fury. how dare she love him? hadn't she any sense at all? what was he supposed to do about that? return it? how? what could his calloused hands produce to make her smile? what of his knowledge of the world and of life could be useful to her? what could his heavy arms and befuddled brain accomplish that would earn him his own respect, that would in turn allow him to accept her love?

As a matter of fact she does not know to this day if those words were spoken, or if he only caught her, wound his arms around her, held her so tightly, with such continual, changing pressures that it seemed more than two arms were needed, that she was surrounded by him, his body strong and light, demanding and renouncing all at once, as if he was telling her she was wrong to give up on him, everything was possible, but then again that she was not wrong, he meant to stam himself on her and go.

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