And then, quite calmly, even a little surprised, she was in the present, and was saying:
'I am dying with hunger.'
'So am I,' he said calmly, as if it were not of the slightest significance. And they relapsed into the warm, golden stillness. And the minutes flowed unheeded past the window outside.
Then suddenly she stirred against him.
'My dear, I am dying of hunger,' she said.
It was a slight pain to him to be brought to.
'We'll get up,' he said, unmoving.
And she sank her head on to him again, and they lay still, lapsing. Half consciously, he heard the clock chime the hour. She did not hear.
'Do get up,' she murmured at length, 'and give me something to eat.'
'Yes,' he said, and he put his arm round her, and she lay with her face on him. They were faintly astonished that they did not move. The minutes rustled louder at the window.
'Let me go then,' he said.
She thought she loved everybody and believed in everybody. But because she could not love herself nor believe in herself, she mistrusted everybody with the mistrust of a serpent or a captured bird. Her starts of revulsion and hatred were more inevitable than her impulses to love.
'Would you like to go to war?'
'I? Well, it would be exciting. If there were a war I would want to go.'
A strange, distracted feeling came over her, a sense of potent unrealities.
'Why would you want to go?'
'I should bee doing something, it would be genuine. It's a sort of toy-life as it is.'
In spite of his criticism and condemnation, he still wanted the great machine. His only happy moments, his only moments of pure freedom were when he was serving the machine. Then, and then only, when the machine caught him up, was he free from the hatred of himself, could he act wholly, without cynicism and unreality.
'I am dying with hunger.'
'So am I,' he said calmly, as if it were not of the slightest significance. And they relapsed into the warm, golden stillness. And the minutes flowed unheeded past the window outside.
Then suddenly she stirred against him.
'My dear, I am dying of hunger,' she said.
It was a slight pain to him to be brought to.
'We'll get up,' he said, unmoving.
And she sank her head on to him again, and they lay still, lapsing. Half consciously, he heard the clock chime the hour. She did not hear.
'Do get up,' she murmured at length, 'and give me something to eat.'
'Yes,' he said, and he put his arm round her, and she lay with her face on him. They were faintly astonished that they did not move. The minutes rustled louder at the window.
'Let me go then,' he said.
D.H. Lawrence, "The Rainbow"
She thought she loved everybody and believed in everybody. But because she could not love herself nor believe in herself, she mistrusted everybody with the mistrust of a serpent or a captured bird. Her starts of revulsion and hatred were more inevitable than her impulses to love.
D.H. Lawrence, "The Rainbow"
'Would you like to go to war?'
'I? Well, it would be exciting. If there were a war I would want to go.'
A strange, distracted feeling came over her, a sense of potent unrealities.
'Why would you want to go?'
'I should bee doing something, it would be genuine. It's a sort of toy-life as it is.'
D.H. Lawrence, "The Rainbow"
In spite of his criticism and condemnation, he still wanted the great machine. His only happy moments, his only moments of pure freedom were when he was serving the machine. Then, and then only, when the machine caught him up, was he free from the hatred of himself, could he act wholly, without cynicism and unreality.
D.H. Lawrence, "The Rainbow"
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