You’re always begging things to love you as if you were a beggar for love. Even the flowers, you have to fawn on them - You don’t want to love - your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren’t positive, you’re negative. You absorb, absorb, as if you must fill yourself up with love, because you’ve got a shortage somewhere.
by D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers (via corona-borealis)