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You lot Can't Get Habitation Once again by Thomas Wolfe
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You Can't Get Dwelling house Again Quotes Showing i-30 of 45

"Make your mistakes, take your chances, await empty-headed, but keep on going. Don't freeze up."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Once more

"Kid, child, take patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour will pass abroad. Son, son, y'all have been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the night confusions of the soul - but so accept we. You found the globe too great for your one life, you plant your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - but information technology has been this way with all men. You have stumbled on in darkness, you take been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered, you have missed the way, merely, child, this is the chronicle of the world. And now, considering you have known madness and despair, and because you will abound desperate again before you come to evening, nosotros who have stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who have been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of dearest, we who have hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and now sit quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall touch on us - we call upon you lot to take centre, for nosotros can swear to you lot that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Go Dwelling house Again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Maxim: "[Expiry is] to lose the globe you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to notice a land more kind than domicile, more large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Dwelling house Once again

"From p. 40 of Signet Edition of Thomas Wolfe's _You Can't Go Home Again_ (1940):

Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same. Lean downward your ear upon the world and listen.

The vocalization of woods water in the night, a woman'south laughter in the dark, the make clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate spider web of children'southward voices in vivid air--these things volition never change.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can exist captured, the thorn of jump, the sharp and tongueless weep--these things volition always exist the same.

All things belonging to the earth will never change--the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes over again, the trees whose stiff arms disharmonism and tremble in the nighttime, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth--all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and modify and come up again upon the globe--these things will ever exist the same, for they come from the earth that never changes, they get back into the world that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will also never change. Pain and death will always be the aforementioned. But nether the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, under the waste of fourth dimension, nether the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, there will exist something growing like a blossom, something bursting from the world again, forever deathless, true-blue, coming into life once again like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Home Again

"It seems to me that in the orbit of our world you are the Due north Pole, I the S--so much in balance, in agreement--and yet... the whole earth lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Domicile Again

"He had learned some of the things that every man must find out for himself, and he had found out most them as one has to find out--through error and through trial, through fantasy and illusion, through falsehood and his own damn foolishness, through being mistaken and wrong and an idiot and egotistical and aspiring and hopeful and assertive and confused. Each thing he learned was so simple and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had not always known it. And what had he learned? A philosopher would not think it much, perhaps, and yet in a uncomplicated human way it was a skilful deal. But by living, my making the thousand petty daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, environs, and witting thought, and deep emotion had driven him to brand, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could non eat his block and have it, too. He had learned that in spite of his strange body, and so much off scale that it had frequently made him retrieve himself a creature gear up apart, he was yet the son and brother of all men living. He had learned that he could non devour the earth, that he must know and take his limitations. He realized that much of his torment of the years past had been cocky-inflicted, and an inevitable function of growing up. And, most important of all for one who had taken and so long to grow upward, he thought he had learned non to be the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox here in America -- that we are fixed and certain only when we are in movement. At any rate, that is how it seemed to young George Webber, who was never so assured of his purpose every bit when he was going somewhere on a railroad train. And he never had the sense of home then 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 Can't Go Dwelling house Once more

"Peace roughshod upon her spirit. Stiff comfort and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was then solid and excellent, and and so expert."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Once again

"But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of abode, why had he thought then much about information technology and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not affair, and if this lilliputian town, and the immortal hills effectually information technology, was not the only habitation he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years catamenia by like water, and that one day men come up home again."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Habitation Once more

"There came to him an paradigm of man's whole life upon the globe. It seemed to him that all human's life was like a tiny spurt of flame that blazed out briefly in an illimitable and terrifying darkness, and that all man's grandeur, tragic dignity, his heroic glory, came from the brevity and smallness of this flame. He knew his life was niggling and would exist extinguished, and that only darkness was immense and everlasting. And he knew that he would die with disobedience on his lips, and that the shout of his denial would ring with the last pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Go Dwelling Once again

"[T]he essence of conventionalities is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Flow, not Ready. The essence of faith is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing man is Man Alive, and his "philosophy" must grow, must menstruation, with him. . . . the man too stock-still today, unfixed tomorrow - and his torso of behavior is nothing but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Get Home Again

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

"All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the bract, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms disharmonism and tremble in the dark, and the grit of lovers long since cached in the earth-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and alter and come again upon the earth-these things volition always exist the same, for they come from the earth that never changes, they get back into the world that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Become Home Over again

"Merely it is non only at these outward forms that we must await to find the prove of a nation'southward injure. Nosotros must look as well at the eye of guilt that beats in each of us, for at that place the cause lies. We must look, and with our own eyes see, the cardinal core of defeat and shame and failure which we accept wrought in the lives of even the least of these, our brothers. And why must nosotros look? Because we must probe to the lesser of our collective wound. Equally men, as Americans, nosotros tin can no longer cringe away and lie. Are nosotros not all warmed by the same sun, frozen by the aforementioned cold, shone on by the same lights of fourth dimension and terror here in America? Yes, and if nosotros do not look and encounter information technology, we shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Domicile Once more

"The human listen is a fearful instrument of adaptation, and in naught is this more clearly shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, self-protection, and self-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the society of ane's life, the listen, if information technology has youth and health and fourth dimension plenty, accepts the inevitable and gets itself ready for the next happening like a grimly dutiful American tourist who, on arriving at a new town, looks around him, takes his bearings, and says, "Well, where exercise I go from hither?"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Habitation Over again

"This is man: a writer of books, a putter-down of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of ten thousand philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls scorn and mockery at some other's work, he finds the one way, the true mode, for himself, and calls all others fake--yet in the billion books upon the shelves at that place is non one that can tell him how to draw a single fleeting breath in peace and comfort. He makes histories of the universe, he directs the destiny of the nations, but he does not know his ain history, and he cannot direct his own destiny with dignity or wisdom for ten consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Again

"This is human being, who, if he tin can call back ten golden moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, ten moments unmarked by care, unseamed past aches or itches, has power to lift himself with his expiring breath and say: "I take lived upon this globe and known glory!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin can't Go Dwelling Again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall dice, I know not where. Saying: "[Expiry is] to lose the world you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you lot loved, for greater loving; to detect a state more than kind than home, more big than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Dwelling house Over again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it's this way: you lot work because you lot're afraid not to. You lot work becuase you have to drive yourself to such a fury to brainstorm. That part'due south just plain hell! It's and then hard to become started that once y'all do y'all're afraid of slipping dorsum. You'd rather do anything than get through all that agony again--so yous proceed going--yous keep going faster all the time--you proceed going till you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. You forget to consume, to shave, to put on a clean shirt when you have 1. You almost forget to sleep, and when you practice try to you lot can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going dark and day. And people say: 'Why don't you stop sometime? Why don't you forget most information technology now and then? Why don't you accept a few days off?' And yous don't do information technology because y'all tin't--you tin't stop yourself--and even if you could you'd be afraid to because there'd be all that hell to go through getting started up once again. Then people say y'all're a glutton for work, but it isn't so. It'south laziness--just plainly, damned, unproblematic laziness, that's all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more than an hour or two at a time, and can go along going dark and day--why that'southward not considering they love to piece of work! It's considering they're really lazy--and afraid not to work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell yes!..I'll bet you anything you like if y'all could really find out what's going on in former Edison'due south mind, you'd notice that he wished he could stay in bed every day until two o'clock in the afternoon! And so get upwardly and scratch himself! And then prevarication around in the lord's day for awhile! And hang around with the boys down at the village store, talking nearly politics, and who'south going to win the World Series adjacent fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin can't Go Abode Again

"The lives of men who have to live in our great cities are often tragically lonely. In many more than means than 1, these dwellers in the hive are modern counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to death in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows near their lips but always falls away when they try to beverage of it. The vine, rich-weighted with its golden fruit, bends downward, comes well-nigh, but springs back when they reach out to touch it...In other times, when painters tried to paint a scene of atrocious desolation, they chose the desert or a heath of barren rocks, and at that place would try to picture human being in his great loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah being fed by ravens on the rocks. Just for a modern painter, the about desolate scene would have to be a street in virtually any one of our great cities on a Sunday afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Habitation Once again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a society which had once been the object of his envy and his highest ambition, Webber'south face had begun to accept on a look of scorn...Yes, all these people looked at one another with untelling eyes. Their speech communication 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 wait in their untelling eyes. Zilch shocked them anymore. It was the way things were. It was what they had come to expect of life...He himself had not all the same come to that, he did not want to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"For he had learned tonight that beloved was not enough. In that location had to be a higher devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. In that location had to be a larger earth than this glittering fragment of a globe with all its wealth and privilege. Throughout his whole youth and early manhood, this very earth of beauty, ease, and luxury, of power, celebrity, and security, had seemed the ultimate end of man ambition, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of any man could achieve. Merely tonight, in a hundred dissever moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very core. He had seen information technology naked, with its guards down. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a false social structure had been erected and sustained upon a base of operations of common mankind's blood and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could not lie down together. He idea of how a silver dollar, if held close enough to the eye, could blot out the sun itself. At that place 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 like to audio."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Dwelling Once again

"I had not yet learned that one cannot really be superior without humility and tolerance and man agreement. I did not yet know that in order to vest to a rare and higher breed one must first develop the truthful ability and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The highest intelligences of the fourth dimension—the very subtlest of the chosen few—were bored past many things. They tilled the waste product land, and erosion had grown fashionable. They were bored with love, 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 chastity, and they were bored with adultery. They were bored with going abroad, and they were bored with staying at abode. They were bored with the neat poets of the world, whose slap-up 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 man'due south 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 Become Dwelling Again

"(Baseball game's a tiresome game, really; that's the reason that information technology is and then good. We do not beloved the game so much as we love the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved aloofness of information technology.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Telling the truth is a pretty difficult thing. And in a young man's first attempt, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is almost impossible. "Home to Our Mountains" was marred by all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that it was non altogether a true volume. Nonetheless, there was truth in it.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your book] rubbed salt in. In proverb this, I'm not similar those others you mutter near: yous know damn well I understand what you did and why you had to practice it. Merely just the same, there were some things that you did non have to do -- and you'd have had a improve book if you hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Again

"The just shame George Webber felt was that at one time in his life, for nonetheless short a period, he broke bread and sat at the same tabular array with any homo when the living warmth of friendship was non in that location; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his encephalon and the blood of his heart to go the body of a scented whore that might accept been better got in a brothel for some greasy coins. This was the only shame he felt. And this shame was so great in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to wash out of his brain and blood the last pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"This is Brooklyn--which means ten 1000 streets and blocks like this one. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Concentrated 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 eye, no eyes, no soul, no purpose, no direction, and no anything--just Standard Concentrated Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles similar a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Absorb upon the Face of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Again

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