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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Women in Love"

He was so firm, and shapely,
with such satisfying, inconceivable shapeliness, strange, yet
unutterably clear. He was such an unutterable enemy, yet glistening
with uncanny white fire. She wanted to touch him and touch him and
touch him, till she had him all in her hands, till she had strained him
into her knowledge. Ah, if she could have the precious KNOWLEDGE of
him, she would be filled, and nothing could deprive her of this. For he
was so unsure, so risky in the common world of day.
'You are so BEAUTIFUL,' she murmured in her throat.
He wondered, and was suspended. But she felt him quiver, and she came
down involuntarily nearer upon him. He could not help himself. Her
fingers had him under their power. The fathomless, fathomless desire
they could evoke in him was deeper than death, where he had no choice.
But she knew now, and it was enough. For the time, her soul was
destroyed with the exquisite shock of his invisible fluid lightning.
She knew. And this knowledge was a death from which she must recover.


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