Quotessence
Home / Topics / Lawrence Quotes

Lawrence Quotes

Browse 9 quotes about Lawrence.

Lawrence Quotes

“Freddy, as a younger man, I was a sculptor, a painter, and a musician. There was just one problem: I wasn't very good. As a matter of fact, I was dreadful. I finally came to the frustrating conclusion that I had taste and style, but not talent. I knew my limitations. We all have our limitations, Freddy. Fortunately, I discovered that taste and style were commodities that people desired. Freddy, what I am saying is: know your limitations. You are a moron.”

“I learned that I knew it (there are some things in life, you knew before you could put the words to them, for me, this was one) upon first seeing the film Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and hearing Lawrence Jamieson (Michael Caine) utter these words: Freddy, as a younger man, I was a sculptor, a painter, and a musician. There was just one problem: I wasn't very good. As a matter of fact, I was dreadful. I finally came to the frustrating conclusion that I had taste and style, but not talent. I knew my limitations. We all have our limitations, Freddy. Fortunately, I discovered that taste and style were commodities that people desired. Freddy, what I am saying is: know your limitations. You are a moron.”

“There are some things in life you know even before you can put words to them. Then it dawned on me, upon first seeing the film Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and hearing Lawrence Jamieson (Michael Caine) utter these words: Freddy, as a younger man, I was a sculptor, a painter, and a musician. There was just one problem: I wasn't very good. As a matter of fact, I was dreadful. I finally came to the frustrating conclusion that I had taste and style, but not talent. I knew my limitations. We all have our limitations, Freddy. Fortunately, I discovered that taste and style were commodities that people desired. Freddy, what I am saying is: know your limitations. You are a moron.”

“I WANT her though, to take the same from me. She touches me as if I were herself, her own. She has not realized yet, that fearful thing, that I am the other, she thinks we are all of one piece. It is painfully untrue. I want her to touch me at last, ah, on the root and quick of my darkness and perish on me, as I have perished on her. Then, we shall be two and distinct, we shall have each our separate being. And that will be pure existence, real liberty. Till then, we are confused, a mixture, unresolved, unextricated one from the other. It is in pure, unutterable resolvedness, distinction of being, that one is free, not in mixing, merging, not in similarity. When she has put her hand on my secret, darkest sources, the darkest outgoings, when it has struck home to her, like a death, "this is _him!_" she has no part in it, no part whatever, it is the terrible _other_, when she knows the fearful _other flesh_, ah, dark- ness unfathomable and fearful, contiguous and concrete, when she is slain against me, and lies in a heap like one outside the house, when she passes away as I have passed away being pressed up against the _other_, then I shall be glad, I shall not be confused with her, I shall be cleared, distinct, single as if burnished in silver, having no adherence, no adhesion anywhere, one clear, burnished, isolated being, unique, and she also, pure, isolated, complete, two of us, unutterably distinguished, and in unutterable conjunction. Then we shall be free, freer than angels, ah, perfect. VIII AFTER that, there will only remain that all men detach themselves and become unique, that we are all detached, moving in freedom more than the angels, conditioned only by our own pure single being, having no laws but the laws of our own being. Every human being will then be like a flower, untrammelled. Every movement will be direct. Only to be will be such delight, we cover our faces when we think of it lest our faces betray us to some untimely fiend. Every man himself, and therefore, a surpassing singleness of mankind. The blazing tiger will spring upon the deer, un-dimmed, the hen will nestle over her chickens, we shall love, we shall hate, but it will be like music, sheer utterance, issuing straight out of the unknown, the lightning and the rainbow appearing in us unbidden, unchecked, like ambassadors. We shall not look before and after. We shall _be_, _now_. We shall know in full. We, the mystic NOW. (From the poem the Manifesto)”

“Şimdi bir anlamda "sol" olmayan bir entelijansiyanın var olmadığı belirtilmeli. Son sağcı entelektüel belki de T. E. Lawrence'tı. Yaklaşık 1930'dan beri, "entelektüel" olarak tanımlanacak herkes var olan düzenden müzmin, memnuniyetsiz halde yaşıyor. Böyle de olmak zorunda, çünkü kurulmuş olduğu haliyle toplumda ona yer yok. Tamamen durağan olan, ne gelişen ne de parçalarına ayrılan bir imparatorlukta ve temel becerisi aptallığı olan insanlar tarafından yönetilen bir İngiltere'de "zeki" olmak şüphelidir. T.S. Eliot'ın şiirlerini ve Karl Marx'ın teorilerini anlayabilecek türden bir beyniniz varsa, üst kademedekiler her tür önemli işten uzak tutulmanızı sağlar. Entelektüeller, kendilerine yalnızca edebiyat eleştirmenliğinde ve sol siyasi partilerde bir görev edinebilirler.”

“Bu yaşamda en canalıcı gereklilik, insanın sevgilisini bütünüyle, kesinlikle, ten ile ruhun tüm çıplaklığıyla sevmesidir... Bana bildirimin ne olduğunu sormuştun bir gün. Bir bildirim varsa benim, budur işte. Sağlıklı toplumlar, sağlıklı yönetimler böyle bir ilişkiyi paylaşan erkeklerle kadınlardan oluşacaktır. Yoksa ne zorbalık yönetimlerinde alıp yürüyen ilkel bir erkeklik gösterisinden, ne de cıncık boncuklara boğulmuş boyalı bir dişilik özentisinden yarar gelir insan yaşamına. Uygarlığımız bize, cinsel albeninin titiz bir incelikle nasıl sürdürülebileceğinin yolunu, yordamını öğretmiş olsaydı, hepimiz sevgi içinde sürdürebilirdik yaşamlarımızı, bir kıvılcım parlamış olurdu içimizde, her türlü yola, her şeye dopdolu bir coşkuyla yönelebilirdik... Oysa yığınla ölüm külü dolduruyor yaşamı şimdi.”

“He did not mind if the rain drops came on him: he would have lain and got wet through: he felt as if nothing mattered, as if his living were smeared away into the beyond, near and quite lovable. This strange, gentle reaching-out to death was new to him...To him, life seemed a shadow, day a white shadow; night, and death, and stillness, and inaction, this seemed like BEING. To be alive, to be urgent and insistent - that was NOT-TO-BE. The highest of all was to melt out into the darkness and sway there, identified with the great Being.”