All the lot. Their spunk is gone dead. Motor-cars and cinemas and aeroplanes suck that last bit out of them. I tell you, every generation breeds a more rabbity generation, with India rubber tubing for guts and tin legs and tin faces. Tin people! Its all a steady sort of bolshevism just killing off the human thing, and worshipping the mechanical thing. Money, money, money! All the modern lot get their real kick out of killing the old human feeling out of man, making mincemeat of the old Adam and the old Eve. Theyre all alike. The world is all alike: kill off the human reality, a quid for every foreskin, two quid for each pair of balls. What is cunt but machine-fucking! Its all alike. Pay em money to cut off the worlds cock. Pay money, money, money to them that will take spunk out of mankind, and leave em all little twiddling machines.
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About D.H. Lawrence
D.H. Lawrence was a 19th-century English writer and poet. David Herbert Lawrence was an English novelist, short story writer, poet, playwright, literary critic, travel writer, essayist, and painter. His modernist works reflect on modernity, social alienation and industrialisation, while championing sexuality, vitality and instinct. Read more on Wikipedia →
Themes
- Money — Thoughts on wealth, value, and material pursuits