God how I hate new countries: They are older than the old, more sophisticated, much more conceited, only young in a certain puerile vanity more like senility than anything.
D. H. LawrenceRead
There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.
Interpretation
Despite apparent loss and chaos, there exists an inner peace within us.
D. H. Lawrence's quote suggests that in moments of despair and turmoil, when everything seems to be lost, one can find solace in a small, tranquil space within the heart. This 'tiny core of stillness' represents the resilience of the human spirit and the ability to maintain inner peace amidst lifeβs challenges.
In practice
During a meditation session, this quote could inspire participants to find their inner calm.
God how I hate new countries: They are older than the old, more sophisticated, much more conceited, only young in a certain puerile vanity more like senility than anything.
A young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes and speaks for him. And the things the young man says are very rarely poetry.
And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place - even the butterfly. But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.
The Christian fear of the pagan outlook has damaged the whole consciousness of man.
The cosmos is a vast living body, of which we are still parts. The sun is a great heart whose tremors run through our smallest veins. The moon is a great nerve center from which we quiver forever. Who knows the power that Saturn has over us, or Venus? But it is a vital power, rippling exquisitely through us all the time.
... he preferred his own madness, to the regular sanity. He rejoiced in his own madness, he was free. He did not want that old sanity of the world, which was become so repulsive. He rejoiced in the new-found world of his madness. It was so fresh and delicate and so satisfying.
That saints will aid if men will call; For the blue sky bends over all!
I cry very easily. It can be a movie, a phone conversation, a sunset - tears are words waiting to be written.
When a gift is difficult to give away, it becomes even more rare and precious, somehow gathering a part of the giver to the gift itself.
And what greater calamity can fall upon a nation than the loss of worship.
It doesn't stop being magic just because you know how it works.
Who are those people by whom you wish to be admired? Are they not these whom you are in the habit of saying that they are mad? What then? Do you wish to be admired by the mad?
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