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You Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe
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Yous Can't Become Home Once again Quotes Showing i-30 of 45

"Make your mistakes, take your chances, wait silly, but keep on going. Don't freeze upwards."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Habitation Again

"Child, kid, have patience and belief, for life is many days, and each present hour volition pass away. Son, son, you take 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 lot found the earth too groovy for your i life, you found your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - but it has been this way with all men. You accept stumbled on in darkness, yous take been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered, yous have missed the manner, just, child, this is the relate of the earth. And now, because you have known madness and despair, and because you will grow desperate again earlier you come to evening, nosotros who take stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who have been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of love, we who accept hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, pain, and frenzy, and now sit down quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more than shall touch us - nosotros call upon you to take heart, for we can swear to y'all that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Home Again

"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 leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to discover a land more than kind than home, more large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Over again

"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 aforementioned. Lean down your ear upon the earth and listen.

The vox of forest water in the night, a woman's laughter in the nighttime, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing sew of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children'south voices in bright air--these things will never change.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened h2o, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the odour of the body of water in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something in that location that comes and goes and never tin can be captured, the thorn of spring, the abrupt and tongueless cry--these things will ever be the aforementioned.

All things belonging to the earth will never change--the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes once more, the trees whose stiff artillery clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since cached in the earth--all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and modify and come again upon the globe--these things will always be the aforementioned, for they come up upwardly from the globe that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the world endures, but it endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp volition as well never modify. Hurting and death will ever be the same. But nether the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a weep, under the waste of fourth dimension, under the hoof of the beast in a higher place the cleaved bones of cities, there will be something growing like a blossom, something bursting from the globe again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Get Home Again

"It seems to me that in the orbit of our world you lot are the North Pole, I the Due south--so much in balance, in agreement--and nonetheless... the whole world lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Abode Again

"He had learned some of the things that every man must detect out for himself, and he had constitute out about them as ane has to discover out--through fault and through trial, through fantasy and illusion, through falsehood and his own damn foolishness, through existence mistaken and incorrect and an idiot and egotistical and aspiring and hopeful and believing and confused. Each thing he learned was so uncomplicated and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had not always known it. And what had he learned? A philosopher would not think it much, perhaps, and yet in a simple human manner it was a skilful deal. Just by living, my making the thousand little daily choices that his whole complex of heredity, environment, and conscious thought, and deep emotion had driven him to make, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could not eat his block and have it, too. He had learned that in spite of his strange torso, so much off scale that it had often fabricated him retrieve himself a animal set up apart, he was nevertheless the son and blood brother of all men living. He had learned that he could not devour the earth, that he must know and have his limitations. He realized that much of his torment of the years past had been self-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing upwardly. And, most important of all for one who had taken so long to grow up, he thought he had learned not to exist the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Dwelling house Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox here in America -- that we are fixed and sure only when we are in motion. At any 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 train. And he never had the sense of dwelling so much every bit when he felt that he was going there. Information technology was but when he got at that place that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Once again

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

"But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he thought so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accurateness, if it did non matter, and if this little town, and the immortal hills effectually information technology, was not the only dwelling house he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years menses past similar water, and that one day men come home again."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Get Home Again

"There came to him an image of man'due south whole life upon the globe. 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 homo's grandeur, tragic dignity, his heroic celebrity, 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 concluding pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Over again

"[T]he essence of belief is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Time is Menstruum, non Fix. The essence of religion is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing human is Man Alive, and his "philosophy" must grow, must flow, with him. . . . the man too stock-still today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of beliefs is zilch but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Toil on, son, and do non lose heart or hope. Let nothing you dismay. You are not utterly forsaken. I, too, am here--here in the darkness waiting, hither attentive, hither approving of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go 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 again, the trees whose stiff artillery clash and tremble in the nighttime, and the grit of lovers long since buried in the globe-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and alter and come again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come up upward from the earth that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Dwelling house Over again

"But it is not only at these outward forms that we must look to detect the evidence of a nation'due south hurt. We must wait besides at the heart of guilt that beats in each of us, for there the cause lies. We must look, and with our ain eyes come across, the central cadre of defeat and shame and failure which nosotros accept wrought in the lives of even the to the lowest degree of these, our brothers. And why must nosotros wait? Considering we must probe to the bottom of our collective wound. Equally men, as Americans, nosotros tin no longer cringe away and prevarication. Are nosotros not all warmed by the aforementioned dominicus, frozen by the same common cold, shone on by the same lights of time and terror here in America? Yeah, and if we do not wait and see it, nosotros shall all be damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Tin't Go Home Over again

"The man mind 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 self-healing. Unless an consequence completely shatters the guild of i's life, the listen, if information technology has youth and wellness and time enough, accepts the inevitable and gets itself set up for the next 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 lot Can't Go Home Again

"This is human: a writer of books, a putter-down of words, a painter of pictures, a maker of ten thousand philosophies. He grows passionate over ideas, he hurls scorn and mockery at another's work, he finds the 1 way, the true mode, for himself, and calls all others false--yet in the billion books upon the shelves there is non ane that tin tell him how to draw a single fleeting jiff in peace and comfort. He makes histories of the universe, he directs the destiny of the nations, merely he does not know his own history, and he cannot direct his ain destiny with nobility or wisdom for ten consecutive minutes."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Habitation Again

"This is human, who, if he can remember 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 Tin't Go Home Again

"Something has spoken to me in the night...and told me that I shall die, I know not where. Saying: "[Decease is] to lose the globe you know for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a state more kind than home, more large than globe."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin't Become Home Again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it's this style: you work because y'all're afraid not to. You work becuase y'all have to bulldoze yourself to such a fury to begin. That role's just obviously hell! It's and so difficult to get started that once you do you're afraid of slipping dorsum. You lot'd rather do annihilation than go through all that agony once again--so you go on going--you keep going faster all the time--y'all continue going till you couldn't terminate fifty-fifty if yous wanted to. You forget to swallow, to shave, to put on a clean shirt when y'all have one. You well-nigh forget to slumber, and when you practise try to you can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going night and day. And people say: 'Why don't you stop sometime? Why don't you forget about information technology now and and so? Why don't y'all take a few days off?' And y'all don't do it considering you can't--yous can't stop yourself--and fifty-fifty if you could you'd be afraid to because at that place'd be all that hell to go through getting started up over again. So people say you're a glutton for work, merely it isn't so. It's laziness--simply plain, damned, uncomplicated laziness, that's all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more than an 60 minutes or 2 at a time, and tin keep going nighttime and day--why that'southward not because they dearest to work! It's considering they're really lazy--and afraid non to piece of work considering they know they're lazy! Why, hell aye!..I'll bet yous anything you like if y'all could really find out what's going on in old Edison's mind, y'all'd discover that he wished he could stay in bed every 24-hour interval until two o'clock in the afternoon! And and then get upwardly and scratch himself! And so prevarication around in the sun for awhile! And hang around with the boys downwards at the village store, talking nigh politics, and who's going to win the World Series next fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Again

"The lives of men who have to live in our nifty cities are often tragically lonely. In many more ways than 1, these dwellers in the hive are modern counterparts of Tantalus. They are starving to death in the midst of abundance. The crystal stream flows about their lips only ever falls away when they try to drink of information technology. The vine, rich-weighted with its golden fruit, bends down, comes near, but springs back when they reach out to bear on information technology...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 by ravens on the rocks. But for a modernistic painter, the most desolate scene would have to exist a street in about any one of our cracking cities on a Sun afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Get Home Again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a society which had once been the object of his envy and his highest appetite, Webber'due south face had begun to take on a expect of scorn...Yes, all these people looked at one some other with untelling eyes. Their voice communication 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 at present with a cynical and amused wait in their untelling optics. 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 desire to come to information technology."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Dwelling Again

"For he had learned tonight that dear was not plenty. There had to be a higher devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. At that place had to be 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 power, celebrity, and security, had seemed the ultimate end of human ambition, the furthermost limit to which the aspirations of any man could reach. Merely 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 downwards. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a false social structure had been erected and sustained upon a base of common mankind's blood and sweat and desperation...Privilege and truth could not prevarication down together. He thought of how a silver dollar, if held close enough to the eye, could blot out the dominicus itself. At that place were stronger, deeper tides and currents running in America than any which these glamorous lives tonight had ever plumbed or even dreamed of. Those were the depths he would similar to audio."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once again

"I had not nevertheless learned that one cannot actually be superior without humility and tolerance and man agreement. I did not yet know that in club to belong to a rare and higher brood ane must outset develop the true power and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Dwelling house Again

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the chosen few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste state, and erosion had grown fashionable. They were bored with love, and they were bored with detest. 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 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, liberty, and man's 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 Tin can't Go Home Once again

"(Baseball'south a tiresome game, really; that's the reason that it is so good. We do non honey the game so much as we dearest the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Over again

"Telling the truth is a pretty difficult matter. And in a young man's kickoff endeavour, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is almost incommunicable. "Habitation to Our Mountains" was marred by all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that it was not altogether a true book. Withal, there was truth in it.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your volume] rubbed table salt in. In saying this, I'm not similar those others y'all complain about: you know damn well I sympathize what you did and why you lot had to exercise it. But just the aforementioned, there were some things that you did not have to do -- and you'd have had a better book if you hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Become Home Over again

"The simply shame George Webber felt was that at i time in his life, for withal brusk a period, he broke bread and sabbatum at the same tabular array with any man when the living warmth of friendship was not at that place; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his brain and the claret of his center to get the trunk 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 so great in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to launder out of his brain and claret 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 like this ane. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Concentrated Chaos No. ane of the Whole Universe. That is to say, it has no size, no shape, no heart, no joy, no promise, no aspiration, no eye, 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 like a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Absorb upon the Face of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Habitation Once more

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