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Yous Can't Go Dwelling house Once again Quotes

You Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe
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Yous Can't Go Home Over again Quotes Showing one-30 of 48

"Make your mistakes, have your chances, wait lightheaded, but keep on going. Don't freeze upwards."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Child, child, accept patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour will pass away. Son, son, yous have been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the dark confusions of the soul - but so have we. You found the earth too great for your one life, you found your encephalon and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - but it has been this way with all men. You have stumbled on in darkness, you accept been pulled in contrary directions, yous take faltered, yous have missed the way, merely, child, this is the chronicle of the earth. And now, because yous have known madness and despair, and because you volition grow desperate again before y'all come to evening, nosotros who have stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who take been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of love, 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 us - nosotros call upon you to take centre, for we can swear to you that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Once again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Proverb: "[Decease is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life y'all have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than habitation, more than large than globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Become Dwelling Once more

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

Some things will never change. Some things will ever be the same. Lean down your ear upon the globe and listen.

The vocalisation of forest water in the night, a adult female'due south laughter in the nighttime, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children's voices in bright air--these things volition never change.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the odor of the body of water in harbors, the feathery mistiness and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring, 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 blossom, the current of air that cries and sleeps and wakes once again, the trees whose stiff arms disharmonism and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the globe--all things proceeding from the world to seasons, all things that lapse and modify and come again upon the earth--these things will always exist the same, for they come up up from the world that never changes, they go back into the globe that lasts forever. Just the earth endures, but it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will besides never change. Pain and death volition always be the aforementioned. But nether the pavements trembling similar a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a weep, nether the waste of time, nether the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, in that location volition be something growing like a flower, something bursting from the world again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Information technology seems to me that in the orbit of our globe you are the North Pole, I the Due south--so much in balance, in agreement--and yet... the whole world lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Get Dwelling house Again

"He had learned some of the things that every man must notice out for himself, and he had establish out about them as i 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 so simple and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had non always known it. And what had he learned? A philosopher would not think it much, perhaps, and yet in a simple human way it was a good deal. Just by living, my making the grand lilliputian daily choices that his whole circuitous of heredity, environment, and conscious thought, and deep emotion had driven him to brand, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could non eat his cake and have it, too. He had learned that in spite of his strange body, so much off calibration that information technology had ofttimes made him think himself a brute ready apart, he was still the son and blood 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 self-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing upwards. And, most of import of all for one who had taken then long to abound upward, he thought he had learned non to exist the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Home Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox hither in America -- that we are fixed and sure only when we are in motility. At whatever rate, that is how it seemed to young George Webber, who was never then assured of his purpose as when he was going somewhere on a train. And he never had the sense of dwelling house and so much equally when he felt that he was going there. It was only when he got in that location that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Again

"Peace fell upon her spirit. Potent comfort and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was then solid and first-class, and and so good."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Become Home Again

"But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of dwelling, why had he idea so much near it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did non matter, and if this piddling town, and the immortal hills effectually information technology, was not the only habitation he had on earth? He did non know. All that he knew was that the years period by like water, and that one day men come domicile again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"At that place came to him an image of man'south whole life upon the earth. It seemed to him that all man's life was like a tiny spurt of flame that blazed out briefly in an illimitable and terrifying darkness, and that all homo'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 die with defiance on his lips, and that the shout of his denial would ring with the final pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing dark."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Habitation Again

"[T]he essence of belief is incertitude, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Flow, non Gear up. The essence of faith is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing man is Man Live, and his "philosophy" must grow, must flow, with him. . . . the man also fixed today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of beliefs is nothing simply a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Toil on, son, and do non lose eye or hope. Allow zilch you lot dismay. You lot are non utterly forsaken. I, too, am hither--here in the darkness waiting, here attentive, here approving of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Become Home Again

"All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the blade, the blossom, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes once more, the trees whose strong arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the grit of lovers long since buried in the earth-all things proceeding from the globe to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come over again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come up up from the earth that never changes, they go back into the globe that lasts forever. Just the earth endures, just it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Get Home Again

"Just information technology is not only at these outward forms that we must expect to detect the prove of a nation's hurt. Nosotros must expect every bit well at the middle of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. We must await, and with our own optics encounter, the primal 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, we can no longer cringe abroad and lie. Are we not all warmed by the same sun, frozen past the same common cold, shone on by the same lights of time and terror here in America? Yes, and if we practice not wait and meet it, we shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The human heed is a fearful instrument of adaptation, and in zilch is this more than clearly shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, self-protection, and cocky-healing. Unless an consequence completely shatters the order of ane'south life, the listen, if it has youth and health and fourth dimension enough, accepts the inevitable and gets itself set for the adjacent happening like a grimly dutiful American tourist who, on arriving at a new town, looks effectually him, takes his bearings, and says, "Well, where do I become from here?"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Get Home Again

"This is man: a writer of books, a putter-down of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of 10 thousand philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls scorn and mockery at another's piece of work, he finds the one way, the truthful mode, for himself, and calls all others false--yet in the billion books upon the shelves there is not one that can tell him how to describe 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, Y'all Can't Go Abode Again

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

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know non where. Proverb: "[Death is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you take, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to observe a land more than kind than home, more large than globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it's this style: yous piece of work because you're afraid not to. Yous work becuase you lot have to drive yourself to such a fury to begin. That part's just plain hell! It's and then hard to get started that one time you practise yous're agape of slipping back. Yous'd rather do anything than get through all that agony again--so you lot keep going--y'all go on going faster all the time--you lot proceed going till you couldn't stop even if yous wanted to. You forget to eat, to shave, to put on a make clean shirt when you have one. You well-nigh forget to sleep, and when you practice effort to yous can't--because the barrage has started, and it keeps going dark and day. And people say: 'Why don't you stop sometime? Why don't you lot forget nearly it at present and then? Why don't you accept a few days off?' And you don't do information technology because yous can't--you tin can't stop yourself--and even if you could you'd be afraid to because at that place'd be all that hell to go through getting started up again. Then people say you lot're a glutton for piece of work, but information technology isn't then. It'due south laziness--just plain, damned, simple laziness, that'due south all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never slumber more than an hour or two at a time, and can keep going night and twenty-four hours--why that's non considering they dear to work! It's because they're really lazy--and afraid not to work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell yes!..I'll bet y'all anything you similar if you could really find out what's going on in one-time Edison'south mind, you'd find that he wished he could stay in bed every twenty-four hours until two o'clock in the afternoon! So become up and scratch himself! And then lie around in the dominicus for awhile! And hang effectually with the boys downwards at the village store, talking about politics, and who'south going to win the Globe Series next fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The lives of men who have to live in our great cities are often tragically lonely. In many more means than one, these dwellers in the hive are modernistic counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to death in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows near their lips just always falls away when they effort to drink of it. The vine, rich-weighted with its golden fruit, bends downwardly, comes near, but springs back when they reach out to touch information technology...In other times, when painters tried to pigment a scene of awful pathos, 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 existence fed by ravens on the rocks. Simply for a mod painter, the most desolate scene would have to be a street in well-nigh any one of our not bad cities on a Sun afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Once again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a order which had in one case been the object of his green-eyed and his highest ambition, Webber's face had begun to take on a expect of scorn...Aye, all these people looked at ane 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 accustomed everything. And they received every new intelligence now with a cynical and amused look in their untelling eyes. Nothing shocked them anymore. It was the way things were. Information technology was what they had come to wait of life...He himself had non yet come to that, he did not desire to come to information technology."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Tin can't Become Home Again

"For he had learned tonight that dearest was not enough. There had to be a higher devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. There had to exist a larger globe than this glittering fragment of a world with all its wealth and privilege. Throughout his whole youth and early manhood, this very world of beauty, ease, and luxury, of power, glory, and security, had seemed the ultimate end of human being appetite, the far-off limit to which the aspirations of any man could attain. Only this night, in a hundred separate moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very core. He had seen it naked, with its guards downward. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a simulated social construction had been erected and sustained upon a base of common mankind'due south blood and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could not lie down together. He thought of how a silver dollar, if held shut enough to the center, could blot out the sun itself. In that location were stronger, deeper tides and currents running in America than any which these glamorous lives this night had always plumbed or fifty-fifty dreamed of. Those were the depths he would like to sound."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Get Domicile Again

"I had not withal learned that one cannot really exist superior without humility and tolerance and human being understanding. I did not all the same know that in order to belong to a rare and higher brood one must first develop the true ability and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin't Become Home Again

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the chosen few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste matter state, 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 union, 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 slap-up 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 being's correct to live. They were bored with living, they were bored with dying, but—they were not bored that twelvemonth with Mr. Piggy Logan and his circus of wire dolls."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Become Dwelling Once more

"(Baseball's a deadening game, actually; that's the reason that it is so good. We do not dear the game so much as we love the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Become Home Again

"Telling the truth is a pretty difficult thing. And in a young human being'due south first attempt, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is almost incommunicable. "Home to Our Mountains" was marred past all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that it was non altogether a truthful book. Still, in that location was truth in it.
...
[from Randy] In that location were places where [your book] rubbed salt in. In maxim this, I'm not like those others you mutter nearly: y'all know damn well I understand what you did and why you had to do it. But just the same, there were some things that yous did not take to exercise -- and you lot'd have had a better volume if you hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Become Home Again

"The only shame George Webber felt was that at 1 time in his life, for still brusque a period, he broke staff of life and sabbatum at the same table with any man when the living warmth of friendship was not there; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his encephalon and the blood of his centre to get the body of a scented whore that might have been ameliorate got in a brothel for some greasy coins. This was the only shame he felt. And this shame was so bang-up in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long plenty to wash out of his brain and blood the last pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Again

"This is Brooklyn--which means ten thousand streets and blocks similar this one. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Full-bodied Anarchy 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 anything--just Standard Concentrated Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles similar a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Blot upon the Face up of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Over again

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