Saying: You Never Go Home Again

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You Tin't Go Abode Once again past Thomas Wolfe
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You Can't Get Home Over again Quotes Showing ane-thirty of 45

"Make your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, just proceed on going. Don't freeze upwardly."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Dwelling Again

"Kid, kid, have patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour will pass abroad. Son, son, you lot take been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the nighttime confusions of the soul - only and so have nosotros. You found the world too great for your ane life, y'all constitute your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - only information technology has been this way with all men. You lot take stumbled on in darkness, you have been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered, you have missed the fashion, merely, child, this is the relate of the earth. And now, because y'all accept known madness and despair, and because you volition grow drastic again before you come up to evening, we 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 beloved, we who have hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and at present sit quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall bear upon u.s. - we call upon you to take heart, for we tin swear to yous that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Become Domicile Once more

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not 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 find a state more than kind than dwelling house, more than large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once more

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

Some things volition never alter. Some things will always exist the same. Lean down your ear upon the globe and mind.

The voice of forest water in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing run up of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children'southward voices in bright air--these things will never alter.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the celebrity of the stars, the innocence of morning, the aroma of the bounding main 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 spring, the sharp and tongueless cry--these things will always be the aforementioned.

All things belonging to the earth will never modify--the leaf, the bract, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose potent arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth--all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the world--these things volition always be the aforementioned, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they become back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, just it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp volition as well never change. Hurting and death will e'er be the aforementioned. But nether the pavements trembling like a pulse, nether the buildings trembling like a cry, nether the waste of time, under the hoof of the animal above the broken bones of cities, there volition be something growing similar a flower, something bursting from the globe again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Domicile Again

"It seems to me that in the orbit of our world you lot are the Northward Pole, I the Due south--so much in residuum, in agreement--and all the same... the whole earth lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Domicile Again

"He had learned some of the things that every human being must observe out for himself, and he had establish out about them equally i 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 believing and confused. Each thing he learned was and so elementary 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, possibly, and yet in a unproblematic homo manner it was a proficient deal. But by living, my making the thousand little daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, surroundings, and conscious thought, and deep emotion had driven him to make, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could non consume his cake and accept it, too. He had learned that in spite of his strange body, so much off scale that it had ofttimes made him think himself a creature set up autonomously, he was still the son and brother of all men living. He had learned that he could not devour the world, that he must know and accept his limitations. He realized that much of his torment of the years past had been cocky-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing upwardly. And, most of import of all for one who had taken so long to grow up, he thought he had learned non to exist the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Get Dwelling house Again

"Peradventure this is our strange and haunting paradox here in America -- that nosotros are fixed and certain only when nosotros are in movement. At whatever rate, that is how information technology seemed to young George Webber, who was never and so bodacious of his purpose every bit when he was going somewhere on a railroad train. And he never had the sense of abode then much as when he felt that he was going there. It was only when he got in that location that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Domicile Again

"Peace fell upon her spirit. Strong condolement and assurance bathed her whole beingness. Life was and so solid and excellent, and and so skilful."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Again

"Only why had he e'er felt then strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he idea so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not matter, and if this little town, and the immortal hills around it, was not the just domicile he had on earth? He did non know. All that he knew was that the years menstruation by like water, and that ane day men come domicile again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Tin can't Get Domicile Again

"There came to him an image of man's 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 man'southward 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 disobedience on his lips, and that the shout of his deprival would ring with the concluding pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing nighttime."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once again

"[T]he essence of belief is incertitude, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Flow, not Fix. The essence of organized religion is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing homo is Man Live, and his "philosophy" must grow, must menses, with him. . . . the human too fixed today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of behavior is nothing but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Toil on, son, and do non lose heart or hope. Let naught you dismay. You are not utterly forsaken. I, too, am here--here in the darkness waiting, here attentive, here approval of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Habitation Again

"All things belonging to the earth will never alter-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the air current that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose potent artillery disharmonism and tremble in the nighttime, and the dust of lovers long since cached in the world-all things proceeding from the globe to seasons, all things that lapse and alter and come again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come upwardly from the earth that never changes, they get back into the world that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, just it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin can't Go Home Again

"Only it is non only at these outward forms that we must expect to find the evidence of a nation's injure. Nosotros must look likewise at the heart of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. We must look, and with our own eyes come across, the central core of defeat and shame and failure which nosotros have wrought in the lives of even the least of these, our brothers. And why must we await? Because we must probe to the bottom of our collective wound. Equally men, equally Americans, we can no longer cringe away and lie. Are nosotros not all warmed past the same sunday, frozen by the aforementioned common cold, shone on by the same lights of time and terror hither in America? Yeah, and if we do not look and meet information technology, we shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Dwelling house Again

"The human mind is a fearful instrument of accommodation, and in nada is this more conspicuously shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, self-protection, and self-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the order of one'southward life, the mind, if it has youth and health and fourth dimension 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, Y'all Tin can't Go Home Once again

"This is human: 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 contemptuousness and mockery at another's work, he finds the one way, the true manner, for himself, and calls all others fake--withal in the billion books upon the shelves there is not 1 that can tell him how to draw a unmarried 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 own history, and he cannot direct his own destiny with dignity or wisdom for x consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"This is man, who, if he tin remember 10 golden moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, ten moments unmarked past care, unseamed by aches or itches, has power to elevator himself with his expiring breath and say: "I accept lived upon this globe and known celebrity!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Go Abode Over again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall dice, I know not where. Saying: "[Death is] to lose the world you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you lot have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more than large than world."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Habitation Again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "information technology'due south this way: you work because you're afraid not to. You work becuase you have to bulldoze yourself to such a fury to begin. That office'southward just manifestly hell! Information technology's and then difficult to get started that in one case you practise y'all're agape of slipping back. Y'all'd rather do anything than get through all that agony again--so you keep going--you keep going faster all the fourth dimension--you keep going till yous couldn't terminate even if you wanted to. You lot forget to eat, to shave, to put on a clean shirt when you accept one. You lot about forget to sleep, and when you do endeavor to you can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going night and mean solar day. And people say: 'Why don't you stop sometime? Why don't you lot forget about information technology now and and then? Why don't you accept a few days off?' And you don't practise it because you can't--you can't stop yourself--and even if you could y'all'd exist afraid to because at that place'd be all that hell to go through getting started upward once more. Then people say you're a glutton for work, only it isn't so. Information technology's laziness--but manifestly, damned, simple laziness, that's all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more an hour or ii at a time, and can go along going nighttime and 24-hour interval--why that'southward not because they love to work! It'south because they're actually lazy--and afraid not to piece of work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell aye!..I'll bet you lot anything you lot similar if yous could actually find out what's going on in one-time Edison's mind, y'all'd notice that he wished he could stay in bed every twenty-four hours until ii o'clock in the afternoon! And then get up and scratch himself! And so lie effectually in the sun for awhile! And hang effectually with the boys down at the hamlet shop, talking about politics, and who'southward going to win the Globe 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 lonely. In many more ways 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 well-nigh their lips but always falls away when they try to beverage of it. The vine, rich-weighted with its gilded fruit, bends down, comes near, but springs back when they reach out to touch it...In other times, when painters tried to paint a scene of awful pathos, they chose the desert or a heath of barren rocks, and in that location would try to picture man in his great loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah being fed past ravens on the rocks. But for a modern painter, the most desolate scene would have to be a street in almost whatever one of our great cities on a Sunday afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once more

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a society which had once been the object of his envy and his highest ambition, Webber's face had begun to take on a wait of scorn...Yes, all these people looked at one 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 accepted everything. And they received every new intelligence now with a cynical and amused await in their untelling eyes. Nix shocked them anymore. It was the way things were. It was what they had come to expect of life...He himself had non yet come to that, he did not desire to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Get 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 addicted imprisonment. In that location had to be a larger globe than this glittering fragment of a world with all its wealth and privilege. Throughout his whole youth and early on manhood, this very world of dazzler, ease, and luxury, of ability, glory, and security, had seemed the ultimate finish of human appetite, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of whatsoever man could reach. But tonight, in a hundred dissever moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very core. He had seen it naked, with its guards down. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a simulated social structure had been erected and sustained upon a base of operations of mutual mankind's blood and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could not lie down together. He thought of how a silver dollar, if held close plenty to the heart, could absorb out the sun itself. There were stronger, deeper tides and currents running in America than any which these glamorous lives tonight had e'er plumbed or even dreamed of. Those were the depths he would like to sound."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Get Home Over again

"I had not still learned that 1 cannot really exist superior without humility and tolerance and man agreement. I did non yet know that in social club to belong to a rare and higher breed one must get-go develop the true power and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once more

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the chosen few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste product land, and erosion had grown fashionable. They were bored with dearest, 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 unmarried 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 habitation. 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 effectually them; and they were bored with justice, liberty, and man'southward correct 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 Get Home Again

"(Baseball'due south a boring game, really; that'southward the reason that it is and so good. We do not love the game so much as we love the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of information technology.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Over again

"Telling the truth is a pretty hard affair. And in a young man's outset endeavour, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is almost impossible. "Habitation to Our Mountains" was marred by all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that information technology was not altogether a true book. Still, in that location was truth in it.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your book] rubbed salt in. In maxim this, I'one thousand not similar those others you complain about: yous know damn well I understand what you did and why you had to practice it. But only the same, in that location were some things that you did not have to do -- and you'd have had a better volume if you hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"The merely shame George Webber felt was that at one time in his life, for however short a flow, he broke bread and saturday at the same table with any man when the living warmth of friendship was non there; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his encephalon and the blood of his heart to get the body of a scented whore that might have been better got in a brothel for some greasy coins. This was the only shame he felt. And this shame was and then great in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to wash out of his encephalon and claret the terminal pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Tin can't Go Abode Again

"This is Brooklyn--which means ten thousand streets and blocks like this i. 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--but Standard Full-bodied Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles like a completely triumphant Standard Full-bodied Blot upon the Confront of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Dwelling house Again

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