You Cant Go Home Again Idiom

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Y'all Can't Become Home Over again by Thomas Wolfe
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You Tin't Go Abode Again Quotes Showing 1-30 of 45

"Make your mistakes, take your chances, expect giddy, but go on on going. Don't freeze upwardly."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Kid, child, have patience and conventionalities, for life is many days, and each present hour will pass away. Son, son, you accept been mad and drunken, furious and wild, filled with hatred and despair, and all the nighttime confusions of the soul - but so take we. You constitute the earth also great for your ane life, you found your brain and sinew smaller than the hunger and desire that fed on them - merely it has been this style with all men. You accept stumbled on in darkness, you have been pulled in opposite directions, you have faltered, you have missed the manner, simply, kid, this is the chronicle of the earth. And at present, considering you lot have known madness and despair, and because you volition grow desperate again earlier you come to evening, we who have stormed the ramparts of the furious earth and been hurled back, we who take been maddened by the unknowable and bitter mystery of honey, we who have hungered after fame and savored all of life, the tumult, hurting, and frenzy, and now sit quietly by our windows watching all that henceforth never more shall affect united states - we call upon you to accept centre, for we can swear to you that these things pass."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Home Over 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 lot loved, for greater loving; to notice a state more kind than habitation, more large than world."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Go Dwelling house Again

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

Some things will never change. Some things will e'er exist the aforementioned. Lean down your ear upon the earth and heed.

The phonation of wood h2o in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the fragile web of children's voices in brilliant air--these things will never modify.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the celebrity of the stars, the innocence of morning, the odour of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of immature boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of jump, the precipitous and tongueless weep--these things volition always be the same.

All things belonging to the earth will never modify--the leaf, the blade, the blossom, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose potent artillery clash and tremble in the dark, 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 up again upon the world--these things will e'er be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they get back into the world that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but information technology endures forever.

The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will as well never change. Pain and death will always be the same. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, nether the waste of time, nether the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, there will be something growing like a bloom, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, true-blue, coming into life once more like April."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Go Dwelling Again

"It seems to me that in the orbit of our world you are the North Pole, I the South--and then much in remainder, in agreement--and withal... the whole world lies between."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Go Domicile Once again

"He had learned some of the things that every human being must find out for himself, and he had establish out about them as ane has to find out--through error and through trial, through fantasy and illusion, through falsehood and his own damn foolishness, through existence mistaken and wrong and an idiot and egotistical and aspiring and hopeful and believing and confused. Each thing he learned was then elementary and obvious, one time 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 way information technology was a proficient 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 brand, and by taking the consequences, he had learned that he could non consume his cake and take information technology, likewise. He had learned that in spite of his strange trunk, then much off scale that it had often made him call back himself a creature set autonomously, he was still the son and brother of all men living. He had learned that he could not devour the earth, that he must know and accept his limitations. He realized that much of his torment of the years by had been self-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing upwardly. And, about of import of all for one who had taken so long to abound upward, he thought he had learned non to be the slave of his emotions."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Domicile Again

"Perhaps this is our strange and haunting paradox here in America -- that we are fixed and certain merely when we are in movement. At whatsoever rate, that is how it seemed to young George Webber, who was never so assured of his purpose equally when he was going somewhere on a train. And he never had the sense of home so much as when he felt that he was going there. It was merely when he got in that location that his homelessness began."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Get Dwelling Again

"Peace roughshod upon her spirit. Strong comfort and balls bathed her whole being. Life was then solid and first-class, and and so expert."
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Go Home Once more

"Just why had he ever felt and then 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 not thing, and if this picayune town, and the immortal hills effectually it, was not the simply home he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years menses by like water, and that one day men come home again."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Tin can't Go Dwelling house Again

"At that place came to him an image of man'southward whole life upon the globe. 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 human's grandeur, tragic nobility, his heroic celebrity, came from the brevity and smallness of this flame. He knew his life was picayune 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 denial would band with the last pulsing of his heart into the maw of all-engulfing night."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Again

"[T]he essence of conventionalities is doubt, the essence of reality is questioning. The essence of Fourth dimension is Flow, not Gear up. The essence of religion is the knowledge that all flows and that everything must change. The growing homo is Man Alive, and his "philosophy" must grow, must flow, with him. . . . the man too fixed today, unfixed tomorrow - and his body of beliefs is cypher but a series of fixations."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Once more

"Toil on, son, and do non lose centre or hope. Allow nothing you dismay. You lot are non utterly forsaken. I, too, am here--here in the darkness waiting, here attentive, hither approving of your labor and your dream."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Become Habitation Again

"All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the bract, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes once more, the trees whose stiff artillery disharmonism and tremble in the nighttime, 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 up again upon the earth-these things will ever be the same, for they come upwardly from the globe that never changes, they go dorsum into the world that lasts forever. Just the earth endures, but it endures forever."
― Thomas Wolfe, You lot Can't Get Home Once more

"But information technology is non only at these outward forms that we must wait to find the evidence of a nation'south hurt. We must expect as well at the centre of guilt that beats in each of u.s.a., for there the cause lies. We must look, and with our own eyes encounter, the central core of defeat and shame and failure which we have wrought in the lives of even the to the lowest degree of these, our brothers. And why must nosotros wait? Because nosotros must probe to the bottom of our collective wound. As men, as Americans, we can no longer cringe abroad and prevarication. Are nosotros not all warmed past the same sun, frozen by the same common cold, shone on past the aforementioned lights of time and terror here in America? Yes, and if we do not await and see information technology, we shall all exist damned together."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Domicile 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, self-protection, and self-healing. Unless an event completely shatters the order of one'south life, the mind, if it has youth and health and fourth dimension enough, accepts the inevitable and gets itself prepare for the next happening similar a grimly dutiful American tourist who, on arriving at a new boondocks, looks effectually him, takes his bearings, and says, "Well, where do I go from here?"
― Thomas Wolfe, Y'all Can't Get Home Again

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

"This is homo, who, if he can remember ten golden moments of joy and happiness out of all his years, 10 moments unmarked past care, unseamed past 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 Can't Go Home Over 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 y'all have, for greater life; to get out the friends you loved, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more large than earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Home Over again

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "it'south this way: you lot work because you're afraid non to. You lot work becuase you have to bulldoze yourself to such a fury to brainstorm. That function'southward simply apparently hell! It's so hard to go started that once you lot do you're afraid of slipping back. Yous'd rather do anything than go through all that agony again--so y'all keep going--you go along going faster all the time--you keep going till you lot couldn't stop even if you lot wanted to. You forget to eat, to shave, to put on a make clean shirt when you have ane. You most forget to sleep, and when you do attempt to you can't--because the avalanche has started, and it keeps going night and day. And people say: 'Why don't you finish onetime? Why don't you forget about it now and then? Why don't you take a few days off?' And you don't practise information technology because you can't--yous can't stop yourself--and even if you lot could you'd be afraid to because there'd be all that hell to become through getting started upward again. And so people say you're a glutton for work, but it isn't and then. It's laziness--only evidently, damned, uncomplicated laziness, that'due south all...Napoleon--and--and Balzac--and Thomas Edison--these fellows who never sleep more than an hr or ii at a fourth dimension, and tin keep going night and twenty-four hours--why that's non because they love to work! Information technology'southward considering they're really lazy--and afraid not to piece of work because they know they're lazy! Why, hell yes!..I'll bet y'all anything yous similar if you could really find out what's going on in onetime Edison's heed, you'd discover that he wished he could stay in bed every day until two o'clock in the afternoon! And and so get up and scratch himself! And then lie around in the sun for awhile! And hang around with the boys down at the hamlet store, talking about politics, and who's going to win the World Serial next fall!"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Home Again

"The lives of men who have to live in our great cities are ofttimes tragically lonely. In many more than ways 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 near their lips only always falls away when they try to drink of information technology. The vine, rich-weighted with its golden fruit, bends down, comes virtually, but springs back when they reach out to touch it...In other times, when painters tried to paint a scene of awful desolation, they chose the desert or a heath of arid rocks, and there would attempt to picture human in his great loneliness--the prophet in the desert, Elijah being fed by ravens on the rocks. But for a modern painter, the about desolate scene would take to exist a street in well-nigh any i of our great cities on a Sun afternoon."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Get Abode Once again

"At these repeated signs of decadence in a gild which had once been the object of his envy and his highest ambition, Webber'southward confront had begun to take on a look of scorn...Yeah, all these people looked at i another with untelling eyes. Their speech communication was coincidental, quick, and witty. Merely 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 wait in their untelling optics. Nada shocked them anymore. Information technology was the way things were. It was what they had come up to wait of life...He himself had not even so come to that, he did not want to come to it."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Again

"For he had learned tonight that honey was not enough. At that place had to be a higher devotion than all the devotions of this fond imprisonment. There 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 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 human being could reach. But this night, in a hundred separate moment of intense reality, it had revealed to him its very core. He had seen it naked, with its guards downward. He had sensed how the hollow pyramid of a false social structure had been erected and sustained upon a base of common flesh'southward blood and sweat and agony...Privilege and truth could not lie downward together. He thought of how a argent dollar, if held close enough to the eye, could blot out the sun itself. There were stronger, deeper tides and currents running in America than whatever which these glamorous lives tonight had e'er plumbed or even dreamed of. Those were the depths he would like to sound."
― Thomas Wolfe, Yous Can't Become Domicile Again

"I had not yet learned that one cannot really be superior without humility and tolerance and human understanding. I did not yet know that in order to belong to a rare and college breed one must first develop the true power and talent of selfless immolation."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Become Abode Once more

"The highest intelligences of the time—the very subtlest of the called few—were bored by many things. They tilled the waste material land, 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 unmarried blessedness. They were bored with chastity, and they were bored with infidelity. 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 nifty 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, freedom, and man'due south right to live. They were bored with living, they were bored with dying, just—they were non bored that year with Mr. Piggy Logan and his circus of wire dolls."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Abode Again

"(Baseball's a boring game, really; that's the reason that information technology is then adept. We do not beloved the game so much as we love the sprawl and drowse and shirt-sleeved apathy of it.)"
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin't Go Home Once again

"Telling the truth is a pretty hard thing. And in a beau's first attempt, with the distortions of his vanity, egotism, hot passion, and lacerated pride, it is nearly impossible. "Home to Our Mountains" was marred past all these faults and imperfections...[Webber] did know that information technology was not altogether a true book. Notwithstanding, in that location was truth in information technology.
...
[from Randy] There were places where [your book] rubbed common salt in. In saying this, I'm not similar those others you complain about: yous know damn well I empathise what y'all did and why yous had to practise information technology. Simply only the same, in that location were some things that you did not have to practice -- and you'd accept had a amend book if you lot hadn't done them."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Abode Again

"The only shame George Webber felt was that at one fourth dimension in his life, for however short a catamenia, he broke bread and sat at the same table with any human when the living warmth of friendship was not there; or that he ever traded upon the toil of his brain and the blood of his heart to go 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 so bang-up in him that he wondered if all his life thereafter would be long enough to wash out of his encephalon and blood the final pollution of its loathsome taint."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Tin can't Go Home Again

"This is Brooklyn--which means ten thousand streets and blocks like this one. Brooklyn, Admiral Drake, is the Standard Concentrated Chaos No. 1 of the Whole Universe. That is to say, it has no size, no shape, no heart, no joy, no hope, no aspiration, no centre, no optics, no soul, no purpose, no direction, and no annihilation--just Standard Concentrated Units everywhere--exploding in all directions for an unknown number of square miles like a completely triumphant Standard Concentrated Blot upon the Face of the Earth."
― Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

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