Wow Someone Once Said That You Cant Go Home Again

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You lot Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe
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You Can't Go Home Once again Quotes Showing 1-30 of 46

"Brand your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, but keep on going. Don't freeze up."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once again

"Child, kid, take patience and conventionalities, for life is many days, and each present hr volition pass away. Son, son, you have been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the dark confusions of the soul - but so take we. You found the earth too nifty for your one life, you plant your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - only it has been this manner with all men. Y'all have stumbled on in darkness, you lot have been pulled in opposite directions, you take faltered, you have missed the style, just, child, this is the chronicle of the world. And at present, because you take known madness and despair, and because yous will grow desperate again before you come to evening, nosotros who have stormed the ramparts of the furious world and been hurled back, nosotros who have been maddened past the unknowable and bitter mystery of honey, we who take hungered later fame and savored all of life, the tumult, hurting, and frenzy, and now sit down quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall touch u.s. - nosotros call upon yous to have middle, for we tin can swear to you that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Again

"Something has spoken to me in the nighttime...and told me that I shall die, I know non where. Saying: "[Death is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to exit the friends you loved, for greater loving; to detect a state more than kind than home, more than large than globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once more

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

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

The vocalism of wood water in the night, a woman'due south laughter in the night, the clean, difficult rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate spider web of children's voices in bright air--these things will 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 tin can exist captured, the thorn of spring, the sharp and tongueless cry--these things volition always be the same.

All things belonging to the earth volition never change--the foliage, the bract, the blossom, the air current that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose potent artillery clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth--all things proceeding from the globe to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come up again upon the earth--these things volition always be the same, for they come up from the globe that never changes, they go back into the world that lasts forever. But the earth endures, simply it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will too never modify. Hurting and death will always be the same. Simply under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a weep, nether the waste of fourth dimension, under the hoof of the beast above the cleaved basic of cities, in that location will be something growing like a bloom, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life once more like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

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

"He had learned some of the things that every man must find out for himself, and he had found out about 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 confused. Each affair he learned was so unproblematic and obvious, once he grasped information technology, that he wondered why he had not always known it. And what had he learned? A philosopher would not think it much, maybe, and yet in a simple human being manner it was a skillful deal. Simply by living, my making the thousand little daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, environment, and witting thought, and deep emotion had driven him to brand, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could not eat his block and have information technology, also. He had learned that in spite of his foreign body, so much off scale that it had ofttimes made him recall himself a creature set apart, he was all the same 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 up. And, most important of all for ane who had taken so long to grow up, he thought he had learned not to be the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Again

"Perhaps this is our foreign and haunting paradox here in America -- that we are fixed and sure only when we are in movement. At any charge per unit, 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 railroad train. And he never had the sense of home then much as when he felt that he was going there. It was just when he got there that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Home Again

"Peace savage upon her spirit. Potent comfort and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was and then solid and splendid, and so proficient."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"But why had he ever felt and so strongly the magnetic pull of abode, why had he thought and so much about it and remembered information technology with such blazing accuracy, if it did non matter, and if this little boondocks, and the immortal hills around it, was not the just home he had on earth? He did non know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like water, and that one solar day men come dwelling again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Get Home Again

"At that place came to him an image of homo'southward whole life upon the earth. It seemed to him that all man'south 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 little and would be extinguished, and that merely 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 last pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing dark."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Get Abode Over again

"[T]he essence of belief is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Menstruum, not Fix. The essence of faith is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing human being is Human Alive, and his "philosophy" must grow, must menstruum, with him. . . . the man too fixed today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of beliefs is zero merely a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once again

"Toil on, son, and do non lose heart or hope. Let nil you dismay. You are non utterly forsaken. I, likewise, am here--here in the darkness waiting, hither circumspect, here approving of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Home Over again

"All things belonging to the world will never alter-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the current of air that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the night, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the globe-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the earth-these things volition ever be the same, for they come from the earth that never changes, they go dorsum into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Once again

"But it is not only at these outward forms that we must look to notice the evidence of a nation's hurt. We must look also at the heart of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. Nosotros must look, and with our own eyes run into, the central core of defeat and shame and failure which nosotros have wrought in the lives of even the to the lowest degree of these, our brothers. And why must we look? Considering we must probe to the lesser of our collective wound. As men, every bit Americans, we tin can no longer cringe away and prevarication. Are nosotros not all warmed past the same sun, frozen by the same cold, shone on by the aforementioned lights of time and terror hither in America? Yes, and if we do not look and meet information technology, nosotros shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"The homo listen is a fearful instrument of adaptation, and in null is this more clearly shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, self-protection, and self-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the guild of 1's life, the mind, if it has youth and health 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 go from here?"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Dwelling house Again

"This is man: a writer of books, a putter-downward of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of x thousand philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls scorn and mockery at some other's work, he finds the ane style, the true way, 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 draw a single fleeting breath in peace and condolement. He makes histories of the universe, he directs the destiny of the nations, but he does not know his own history, and he cannot direct his own destiny with nobility or wisdom for ten consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Abode Again

"This is man, who, if he tin can recollect ten gilt moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, ten moments unmarked by care, unseamed by aches or itches, has power to elevator himself with his expiring breath and say: "I have lived upon this globe and known glory!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Get Home Once more

"Something has spoken to me in the nighttime...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Proverb: "[Death is] to lose the earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to detect a land more kind than habitation, more large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it's this way: you work because yous're afraid non to. You work becuase y'all have to drive yourself to such a fury to brainstorm. That office'southward just plain hell! It's so hard to get started that one time you do you're agape of slipping dorsum. Yous'd rather practise anything than go through all that agony again--and so you lot continue going--y'all keep going faster all the time--yous keep going till yous 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. Yous almost forget to slumber, and when you do endeavour to you can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going nighttime and day. And people say: 'Why don't you lot finish sometime? Why don't you lot forget virtually information technology now and then? Why don't you take a few days off?' And you don't practise information technology because you can't--you tin't stop yourself--and even if you could you'd exist afraid to considering in that location'd exist all that hell to go through getting started up again. Then people say you're a glutton for work, merely information technology isn't then. It'south laziness--just evidently, damned, simple laziness, that's all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more an hour or two at a time, and can continue going night and 24-hour interval--why that'southward not because they love to work! Information technology'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 like if yous could really find out what'south going on in old Edison'south mind, you'd detect that he wished he could stay in bed every day until two o'clock in the afternoon! And so go up and scratch himself! And and so lie effectually in the sun for awhile! And hang around with the boys down at the village store, talking most politics, and who's going to win the World Series next fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The lives of men who have to alive in our great cities are often tragically solitary. In many more ways than ane, these dwellers in the hive are mod counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to death in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows well-nigh their lips but always falls away when they try to drink of information technology. The vine, rich-weighted with its aureate fruit, bends down, comes virtually, but springs back when they reach out to bear on information technology...In other times, when painters tried to pigment a scene of awful desolation, they chose the desert or a heath of arid rocks, and in that location would try to picture homo in his great loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah being fed past ravens on the rocks. But for a modernistic painter, the nigh desolate scene would accept to be a street in almost any one of our not bad cities on a Sunday afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a lodge which had once been the object of his envy and his highest ambition, Webber's face up had begun to accept on a expect of scorn...Yes, all these people looked at one some other with untelling optics. Their voice communication was coincidental, 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 optics. Nothing shocked them anymore. It was the style things were. It was what they had come to expect of life...He himself had non even so come to that, he did not desire to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Again

"For he had learned tonight that love was not enough. There had to be a higher devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. In that location had to be a larger globe than this glittering fragment of a globe with all its wealth and privilege. Throughout his whole youth and early manhood, this very earth of dazzler, ease, and luxury, of power, glory, and security, had seemed the ultimate end of human ambition, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of whatever man could reach. 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 common mankind'due south claret and sweat and desperation...Privilege and truth could not lie down together. He idea of how a silver dollar, if held shut plenty to the eye, could blot out the sun 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 like to sound."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Once more

"I had not yet learned that i cannot really be superior without humility and tolerance and human understanding. I did non yet know that in order to vest to a rare and college breed i must commencement 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 chosen few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste material land, and erosion had grown stylish. 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 home. They were bored with the great 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 man's right to live. They were bored with living, they were bored with dying, merely—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's a dull game, really; that's the reason that it is and so good. We do non love the game then much equally we dear the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling house Again

"Telling the truth is a pretty difficult thing. And in a young homo'south first try, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, information technology is almost impossible. "Home to Our Mountains" was marred by all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that information technology was not altogether a true book. Still, at that place was truth in information technology.
...
[from Randy] At that place were places where [your book] rubbed salt in. In proverb this, I'm non similar those others yous mutter about: you lot know damn well I understand what y'all did and why yous had to practice information technology. Only just the same, there were some things that you did non accept to do -- and yous'd have had a better book if yous hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Get Habitation Over again

"The only shame George Webber felt was that at one time in his life, for still brusque a menstruum, he broke bread and sat at the aforementioned table with whatever man when the living warmth of friendship was not there; or that he e'er traded upon the toil of his brain and the blood of his heart to get the trunk 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 and then corking in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would exist long enough to wash out of his brain and blood the last pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Once again

"This is Brooklyn--which means ten 1000 streets and blocks like this ane. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Concentrated Anarchy No. 1 of the Whole Universe. That is to say, information technology has no size, no shape, no heart, no joy, no promise, no aspiration, no center, no eyes, no soul, no purpose, no direction, and no anything--merely Standard Concentrated Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles like a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Blot upon the Confront of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

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