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You Tin can't Get Dwelling house Once again Quotes

Y'all Tin't Go Habitation Again past Thomas Wolfe
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Yous Can't Get Dwelling house Once again Quotes Showing 1-30 of 48

"Brand your mistakes, have your chances, look silly, merely continue on going. Don't freeze up."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Again

"Child, child, have patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour volition pass away. Son, son, you have been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the night confusions of the soul - but and then accept we. You lot institute the earth too bang-up for your one life, you found your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - merely it has been this manner with all men. You take stumbled on in darkness, you lot have been pulled in opposite directions, y'all have faltered, yous have missed the way, merely, child, this is the chronicle of the globe. And now, because yous have known madness and despair, and because you volition grow desperate over again earlier you come up to evening, nosotros who have stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled dorsum, we who take been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of honey, we who have hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and now sit quietly past our windows watching all that henceforth never more than shall touch the states - we call upon yous to take heart, for nosotros can swear to yous that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Home Once again

"Something has spoken to me in the dark...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Saying: "[Decease is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life y'all accept, for greater life; to leave the friends you lot loved, for greater loving; to find a country more kind than home, more large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"From p. xl of Signet Edition of Thomas Wolfe's _You Tin can't Go Habitation Again_ (1940):

Some things will never modify. Some things will always be the same. Lean down your ear upon the earth and heed.

The vocalization of forest water in the night, a woman'due south laughter in the night, the make clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children'southward voices in bright air--these things will never alter.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened h2o, the glory of the stars, the innocence of forenoon, the odor of the bounding main in harbors, the feathery mistiness and smoky buddings of immature boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of bound, the sharp and tongueless cry--these things volition always be the aforementioned.

All things belonging to the world will never change--the leafage, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the copse whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth--all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come once again upon the world--these things will always be the same, for they come from the earth that never changes, they become back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but information technology endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will also never change. Pain and decease will always exist the same. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a weep, under the waste matter of time, nether the hoof of the animate being above the broken bones of cities, at that place will be something growing like a bloom, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like Apr."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Once again

"Information technology seems to me that in the orbit of our world you are the N Pole, I the South--so much in rest, in understanding--and yet... the whole earth lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"He had learned some of the things that every man must notice out for himself, and he had found out virtually them as one has to find out--through error and through trial, through fantasy and illusion, through falsehood and his ain damn foolishness, through being mistaken and wrong and an idiot and egotistical and aspiring and hopeful and believing and dislocated. Each thing he learned was and then unproblematic and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had non ever known information technology. And what had he learned? A philosopher would not think information technology much, perhaps, and nonetheless in a simple man way it was a good deal. Merely by living, my making the g little daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, environment, and witting thought, and deep emotion had driven him to make, and past taking the consequences, he had learned that he could not swallow his cake and have it, too. He had learned that in spite of his foreign torso, so much off calibration that it had oftentimes made him think himself a creature set apart, he was withal the son and brother of all men living. He had learned that he could non devour the earth, that he must know and accept his limitations. He realized that much of his torment of the years past had been self-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing upwards. And, almost important of all for one who had taken so long to grow up, he thought he had learned not to be the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox here in America -- that we are fixed and certain only when nosotros are in movement. At any rate, that is how information technology seemed to immature George Webber, who was never so assured of his purpose as when he was going somewhere on a train. And he never had the sense of dwelling so much as when he felt that he was going there. Information technology was only when he got there that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Become Home Again

"Peace fell upon her spirit. Strong condolement and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was and then solid and splendid, and and then good."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Tin can't Become Domicile Over again

"Just why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he thought so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if information technology did not affair, and if this piddling town, and the immortal hills effectually it, was not the just home he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like water, and that ane day men come dwelling again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Go Dwelling Again

"There came to him an epitome of man'south whole life upon the earth. Information technology seemed to him that all homo'south life was similar a tiny spurt of flame that blazed out briefly in an illimitable and terrifying darkness, and that all man'due south grandeur, tragic dignity, his heroic glory, came from the brevity and smallness of this flame. He knew his life was little and would be extinguished, and that only darkness was immense and everlasting. And he knew that he would dice with defiance on his lips, and that the shout of his denial would ring with the concluding pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Dwelling Once again

"[T]he essence of belief is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Period, not Fix. The essence of faith is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing human is Human Alive, and his "philosophy" must abound, must flow, with him. . . . the human besides stock-still today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of beliefs is goose egg but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Dwelling house Again

"Toil on, son, and do not lose heart or promise. Let nothing you dismay. You are not utterly forsaken. I, too, am here--here in the darkness waiting, here attentive, hither approving of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Home Once more

"All things belonging to the globe volition never alter-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms disharmonism and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the globe-these things will always be the same, for they come upward from the globe that never changes, they become back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Become Habitation Once more

"But it is not only at these outward forms that we must look to observe the testify of a nation's injure. We must look besides at the eye of guilt that beats in each of u.s.a., for there the cause lies. Nosotros must look, and with our own eyes see, the central core of defeat and shame and failure which we have wrought in the lives of even the least of these, our brothers. And why must we look? Because we must probe to the bottom of our collective wound. As men, as Americans, nosotros can no longer cringe away and lie. Are we not all warmed past the same dominicus, frozen by the same common cold, shone on past the aforementioned lights of fourth dimension and terror here in America? Yes, and if nosotros do not look and encounter information technology, we shall all exist damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The human mind is a fearful instrument of adaptation, and in zero is this more than conspicuously shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, self-protection, and self-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the society of one's life, the mind, if it has youth and wellness and time enough, accepts the inevitable and gets itself ready for the side by side happening like a grimly dutiful American tourist who, on arriving at a new town, looks around him, takes his bearings, and says, "Well, where do I become from hither?"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Become Dwelling house Again

"This is homo: a writer of books, a putter-down of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of ten 1000 philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls scorn and mockery at another'due south work, he finds the one way, the true way, for himself, and calls all others false--nonetheless in the billion books upon the shelves in that location is non i that tin can tell him how to draw a single fleeting jiff in peace and comfort. He makes histories of the universe, he directs the destiny of the nations, simply he does not know his own history, and he cannot direct his own destiny with dignity or wisdom for ten consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Dwelling house Once again

"This is man, who, if he can remember x gilt moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, ten moments unmarked by care, unseamed by aches or itches, has power to lift himself with his expiring breath and say: "I take lived upon this earth and known celebrity!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Habitation Again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Maxim: "[Death is] to lose the earth you lot know for greater knowing; to lose the life you take, for greater life; to get out the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more big than world."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "information technology'due south this way: you work because you're afraid not to. Y'all work becuase yous accept to bulldoze yourself to such a fury to brainstorm. That part's merely evidently hell! It's so hard to become started that once you do yous're agape of slipping back. You lot'd rather practise anything than go through all that desperation over again--then you proceed going--you proceed going faster all the time--you keep going till you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. You forget to eat, to shave, to put on a make clean shirt when you take one. Yous near forget to sleep, and when you practice effort to yous can't--considering the avalanche has started, and information technology keeps going night and twenty-four hours. And people say: 'Why don't you cease erstwhile? Why don't you lot forget nearly it at present and so? Why don't you take a few days off?' And you don't do it because you lot can't--y'all can't stop yourself--and even if you could you'd be afraid to because there'd be all that hell to get through getting started upward again. Then people say you lot're a glutton for work, but it isn't so. It's laziness--merely plainly, damned, uncomplicated laziness, that'south all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more than an 60 minutes or ii at a time, and can continue going night and day--why that's non because they beloved to piece of work! It'due south because they're really lazy--and afraid non to work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell yep!..I'll bet you anything you like if yous could really observe out what'southward going on in one-time Edison's mind, yous'd find that he wished he could stay in bed every twenty-four hours until two o'clock in the afternoon! And so get up and scratch himself! And then prevarication around in the dominicus for awhile! And hang effectually with the boys down at the village store, talking near politics, and who's going to win the World Serial adjacent fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once again

"The lives of men who have to alive in our great cities are often tragically alone. In many more ways than one, these dwellers in the hive are modern counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to decease in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows most their lips but always falls abroad when they try to drink of it. The vine, rich-weighted with its golden fruit, bends down, comes virtually, only springs back when they reach out to touch it...In other times, when painters tried to paint a scene of awful desolation, they chose the desert or a heath of barren rocks, and there would try to picture man in his great loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah beingness fed by ravens on the rocks. But for a modern painter, the virtually desolate scene would accept to exist a street in almost any one of our slap-up cities on a Sunday afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Home Again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a society which had in one case been the object of his green-eyed and his highest appetite, Webber's face had begun to take on a wait of contemptuousness...Yes, all these people looked at 1 another with untelling eyes. Their speech was casual, quick, and witty. But they did not say the things they knew. And they knew everything. They had seen everything. They had accepted everything. And they received every new intelligence now with a cynical and amused look in their untelling eyes. Nix shocked them anymore. It was the mode things were. Information technology was what they had come to await of life...He himself had not nonetheless come to that, he did not want to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin't Go Home Again

"For he had learned this night that love was not enough. There had to be a college devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. There had to be a larger world than this glittering fragment of a world with all its wealth and privilege. Throughout his whole youth and early manhood, this very world of dazzler, ease, and luxury, of power, glory, and security, had seemed the ultimate cease of man appetite, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of any man could attain. Just tonight, in a hundred separate moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very core. He had seen it naked, with its guards downwardly. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a false social structure had been erected and sustained upon a base of mutual mankind's claret and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could non lie downwards together. He idea of how a silverish dollar, if held close enough to the center, could absorb out the sunday itself. There were stronger, deeper tides and currents running in America than whatsoever which these glamorous lives tonight had ever plumbed or even dreamed of. Those were the depths he would similar to audio."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Dwelling Again

"I had not yet learned that one cannot really exist superior without humility and tolerance and human understanding. I did not yet know that in order to belong to a rare and college brood one must first develop the true power and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the called few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste land, and erosion had grown fashionable. They were bored with honey, and they were bored with hate. They were bored with men who worked, and with men who loafed. They were bored with people who created something, and with people who created nothing. They were bored with marriage, and with single blessedness. They were bored with guiltlessness, and they were bored with adultery. They were bored with going abroad, and they were bored with staying at home. They were bored with the peachy poets of the world, whose great poems they had never read. They were bored with hunger in the streets, with the men who were killed, with the children who starved, and with the injustice, cruelty, and oppression all around them; and they were bored with justice, freedom, and human's right to live. They were bored with living, they were bored with dying, but—they were not bored that year with Mr. Piggy Logan and his circus of wire dolls."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"(Baseball game'southward a boring game, really; that's the reason that it is so skillful. We do not dearest the game so much as nosotros dearest the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Go Abode Again

"Telling the truth is a pretty hard thing. And in a boyfriend's kickoff attempt, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is well-nigh incommunicable. "Home to Our Mountains" was marred past all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that it was not altogether a true volume. However, in that location was truth in it.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your volume] rubbed salt in. In saying this, I'm non like those others you complain about: you know damn well I understand what y'all did and why you lot had to do it. But just the same, in that location were some things that you did non have to exercise -- and you'd have had a improve book if you lot hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Get Home Again

"The but shame George Webber felt was that at one time in his life, for nonetheless short a period, he broke staff of life and sat at the aforementioned table with any man when the living warmth of friendship was non at that place; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his brain and the blood of his heart to get the body of a scented whore that might take been better got in a brothel for some greasy coins. This was the only shame he felt. And this shame was then great in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to wash out of his brain and claret the final pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Go Abode Again

"This is Brooklyn--which means 10 thousand streets and blocks like this i. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Full-bodied Chaos No. 1 of the Whole Universe. That is to say, it has no size, no shape, no heart, no joy, no hope, no aspiration, no center, no eyes, no soul, no purpose, no direction, and no annihilation--just Standard Concentrated Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles like a completely triumphant Standard Full-bodied Blot upon the Face of the Globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Go Home Once again

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