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You Tin't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe
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Yous Tin't Go Habitation Again Quotes Showing i-xxx of 45

"Make your mistakes, accept your chances, look giddy, simply continue on going. Don't freeze upward."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Dwelling Once more

"Child, child, have patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour will laissez passer abroad. Son, son, you lot accept been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the dark confusions of the soul - but and so have we. Yous found the earth also great for your 1 life, you institute your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - but it has been this mode with all men. You accept stumbled on in darkness, you lot have been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered, you accept missed the fashion, but, child, this is the chronicle of the earth. And now, because y'all have known madness and despair, and because you will grow desperate again before you come to evening, nosotros who take stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, nosotros who have been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of beloved, nosotros who have hungered after 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 than shall touch u.s.a. - we call upon y'all to take heart, for we can swear to you lot that these things laissez passer."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin't Go Domicile Again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know non where. Saying: "[Expiry is] to lose the globe you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you accept, for greater life; to leave the friends you lot loved, for greater loving; to observe a land more kind than habitation, more big than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Over again

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

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

The vocalisation of forest h2o in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing sew of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children's voices in bright air--these things will never modify.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the celebrity of the stars, the innocence of morning, the odor of the sea in harbors, the feathery mistiness and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something at that place that comes and goes and never can exist captured, the thorn of jump, the sharp and tongueless cry--these things will ever be the same.

All things belonging to the earth will never alter--the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes once more, the copse whose stiff artillery disharmonism and tremble in the night, 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 earth--these things volition always be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they get back into the earth that lasts forever. Simply the earth endures, just it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will as well never change. Pain and death volition ever be the aforementioned. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, under the waste material of fourth dimension, nether the hoof of the creature to a higher place the broken bones of cities, there will be something growing similar a blossom, something bursting from the world once more, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Go Habitation Once again

"It seems to me that in the orbit of our globe yous are the North Pole, I the Southward--so much in balance, in agreement--and nonetheless... the whole world lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Become Habitation Once again

"He had learned some of the things that every homo must find out for himself, and he had plant out near them as i has to find out--through error and through trial, through fantasy and illusion, through falsehood and his ain damn foolishness, through beingness mistaken and incorrect and an idiot and egotistical and aspiring and hopeful and believing and confused. Each thing he learned was so simple and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had not always known it. And what had he learned? A philosopher would non think it much, perchance, and yet in a simple human being way information technology was a practiced bargain. Just by living, my making the thousand piddling daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, surround, and witting idea, and deep emotion had driven him to make, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could not eat his cake and have it, besides. He had learned that in spite of his strange torso, then much off scale that it had often made him think himself a creature set apart, he was yet 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, nigh important of all for one who had taken so long to grow upward, he idea he had learned not to be the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox hither in America -- that we are stock-still and sure only when nosotros are in motility. At any rate, that is how it seemed to young George Webber, who was never so assured of his purpose as when he was going somewhere on a train. And he never had the sense of home then much as when he felt that he was going there. It was merely when he got at that place that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"Peace brutal upon her spirit. Strong condolement and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was so solid and splendid, and then good."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Just why had he e'er felt so strongly the magnetic pull of dwelling, why had he thought so much nearly it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not affair, and if this niggling boondocks, and the immortal hills around it, was not the only home he had on earth? He did non know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like h2o, and that one solar day men come home again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"There came to him an paradigm of man's whole life upon the earth. It seemed to him that all man's life was similar 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 piffling and would exist extinguished, and that simply 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 last pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Become Home Again

"[T]he essence of belief is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Fourth dimension is Catamenia, non Ready. The essence of religion is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing man is Man Live, and his "philosophy" must grow, must catamenia, with him. . . . the human too fixed today, unfixed tomorrow - and his trunk of beliefs is zip but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Go Dwelling Over again

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

"All things belonging to the world will never change-the leafage, the blade, the blossom, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes over again, the trees whose stiff artillery disharmonism and tremble in the night, and the grit 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 earth-these things will always be the same, for they come upwardly from the world that never changes, they become back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, merely it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Domicile Again

"But it is non only at these outward forms that nosotros must look to find the evidence of a nation's hurt. Nosotros must wait likewise at the heart of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. We must look, and with our own optics see, the central cadre 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, nosotros tin can no longer cringe away and prevarication. Are we not all warmed past the aforementioned sunday, frozen by the aforementioned cold, shone on by the aforementioned lights of time and terror here in America? Yes, and if we do not expect and come across information technology, nosotros shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"The human mind is a fearful instrument of adaptation, and in nothing is this more clearly shown than in its mysterious powers of resilience, cocky-protection, and cocky-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the club of one's life, the heed, if it has youth and health and fourth dimension enough, accepts the inevitable and gets itself set for the next happening similar a grimly dutiful American tourist who, on arriving at a new boondocks, looks around him, takes his bearings, and says, "Well, where practice I get from hither?"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Dwelling Again

"This is man: a writer of books, a putter-downwardly of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of ten grand philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls contemptuousness and mockery at another's work, he finds the i way, the true way, for himself, and calls all others false--even so in the billion books upon the shelves there is non one that can tell him how to draw 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 own history, and he cannot direct his ain destiny with dignity or wisdom for ten consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Get Home Again

"This is man, who, if he tin can remember x golden moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, 10 moments unmarked by care, unseamed past aches or itches, has power to lift himself with his expiring breath and say: "I have lived upon this world and known celebrity!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home 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 earth you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you accept, for greater life; to get out the friends yous loved, for greater loving; to find a country more kind than dwelling house, more large than world."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it's this style: you lot piece of work because you're afraid not to. You work becuase you have to drive yourself to such a fury to begin. That role's just obviously hell! It's so hard to get started that once yous do you're agape of slipping back. You'd rather do anything than go through all that agony once again--so you lot go along going--you keep going faster all the fourth dimension--you keep going till you couldn't finish even if you wanted to. You forget to consume, to shave, to put on a clean shirt when you take ane. You virtually forget to slumber, and when you practice try to you can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going night and day. And people say: 'Why don't you end sometime? Why don't yous forget about it now and then? Why don't you take a few days off?' And you don't do it because you can't--you tin't cease yourself--and even if you could you lot'd exist agape to considering there'd exist all that hell to go through getting started upward again. Then people say you're a glutton for work, but information technology isn't so. Information technology's laziness--just obviously, 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 on going nighttime and day--why that's not because they dear to work! It's because they're actually lazy--and afraid not to work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell yes!..I'll bet you lot anything you like if y'all could really find out what'south going on in old Edison'south mind, y'all'd notice that he wished he could stay in bed every day until two o'clock in the afternoon! And and then get upward and scratch himself! And so lie around in the sun for awhile! And hang around with the boys downward at the village store, talking nigh politics, and who'southward going to win the Earth Series next fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Get Home Again

"The lives of men who accept to live in our great cities are oftentimes tragically lonely. In many more means than one, these dwellers in the hive are modern counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to death in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows virtually their lips but always falls away when they effort to drink of it. The vine, rich-weighted with its gold fruit, bends down, comes near, but springs back when they reach out to touch information technology...In other times, when painters tried to paint a scene of awful desolation, they chose the desert or a heath of arid rocks, and in that location would try to picture man in his neat loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah existence fed by ravens on the rocks. Simply for a modernistic painter, the near desolate scene would take to be a street in virtually any 1 of our keen cities on a Dominicus afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a club which had once been the object of his green-eyed and his highest ambition, Webber'due south face up had begun to take on a expect of contemptuousness...Yeah, all these people looked at one another with untelling eyes. Their speech was coincidental, quick, and witty. Merely they did non 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 eyes. Zero shocked them anymore. It was the way things were. It was what they had come to expect of life...He himself had not yet come to that, he did not want to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Tin can't Get Home Once more

"For he had learned tonight that love was not enough. There had to be a college devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. At that place had to exist a larger world 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 ability, glory, and security, had seemed the ultimate end of human appetite, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of any man could attain. But tonight, in a hundred separate moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very cadre. He had seen it naked, with its guards down. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a imitation social construction had been erected and sustained upon a base of operations of common mankind'southward blood and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could not lie downwards together. He thought of how a silver dollar, if held close enough to the eye, could blot out the lord's day itself. At that place 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 similar to sound."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Become Habitation Again

"I had not yet learned that ane cannot really exist superior without humility and tolerance and human agreement. I did not withal know that in guild to vest to a rare and college brood one must outset develop the truthful power and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Become Dwelling Over again

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the called few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste product 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 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 groovy 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'south right to alive. They were bored with living, they were bored with dying, simply—they were not bored that year with Mr. Piggy Logan and his circus of wire dolls."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once again

"(Baseball's a dull game, really; that'due south the reason that it is so expert. We do non love the game so much as we dear the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Telling the truth is a pretty hard thing. And in a beau's first endeavour, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is nearly impossible. "Habitation to Our Mountains" was marred by all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that it was not birthday a true book. Notwithstanding, there was truth in information technology.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your volume] rubbed common salt in. In proverb this, I'chiliad not like those others y'all complain nearly: y'all know damn well I empathize what yous did and why yous had to exercise information technology. But merely the same, there were some things that you did non accept to exercise -- and you'd have had a better book if you hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once again

"The only shame George Webber felt was that at in one case in his life, for however short a menstruation, he bankrupt bread and sat at the aforementioned table with any man when the living warmth of friendship was not there; or that he e'er traded upon the toil of his encephalon and the blood of his heart to get the torso 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 smashing in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to wash out of his brain and claret the final pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Go Home Again

"This is Brooklyn--which ways ten chiliad streets and blocks similar this ane. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Concentrated Chaos No. 1 of the Whole Universe. That is to say, information technology 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 Full-bodied Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of foursquare miles like a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Absorb upon the Face of the Globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Dwelling Again

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