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Lawrence Durrell [1912-1990] British

Rank: 101
Writer, Novelist

Lawrence George Durrell was an expatriate British novelist, poet, dramatist, and travel writer. Born in India to British colonial parents, he was sent to England at the age of eleven for his education.

Imagination, Love, Music, Time, Truth, Age, History, Jealousy, Men, Travel, Women

Quote	Tags	Rank
Music is only love looking for words.	Love, Music	101
The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.	Love, Time	102
The appalling thing is the degree of charity women are capable of. You see it all the time... love lavished on absolute fools. Love's a charity ward, you know.	Time, Women	103
Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot bear rather than to rest content with the fictions we manufacture out of each other.	Truth	104
Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.	Travel	105
Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.	Music	106
Old age is an insult. It's like being smacked.	Age	107
Everyone loathes his own country and countrymen if he is any sort of artist.		108
There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.		109
Guilt always hurries towards its complement, punishment; only there does its satisfaction lie.		110
It takes a lot of energy and a lot of neurosis to write a novel. If you were really sensible, you'd do something else.		111
I imagine, therefore I belong and am free.	Imagination	112
It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.	Jealousy	113
We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it.		114
History is an endless repetition of the wrong way of living.	History	115
Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will-whatever we may think.		116
Our inventions mirror our secret wishes.		117
I'm trying to die correctly, but it's very difficult, you know.		118
A woman's best love letters are always written to the man she is betraying.		119
No one can go on being a rebel too long without turning into an autocrat.		120
For us artists there waits the joyous compromise through art with all that wounded or defeated us in daily life; in this way, not to evade destiny, as the ordinary people try to do, but to fulfil it in its true potential - the imagination.	Imagination	121
Truth disappears with the telling of it.	Truth	122
A city becomes a world when one loves one of its inhabitants.		123
Like all young men I set out to be a genius, but mercifully laughter intervened.	Men	124
I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.		125

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