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That may help explain why Clifford is satisfied to do without her all day every day, and be content when she returns late with a handful of daffodils.She is a kind and dutiful wife, to be sure, and they spent quiet time reading, apparently always the same books.She clung to him unconscious in passion, and he never quite slipped from her, and she felt the soft bud of him within her stirring, and strange rhythms flushing up into her with a strange rhythmic growing motion, swelling and swelling til it filled all her cleaving consciousness, and then began again the unspeakable motion that was not really motion, but pure deepening whirlpools of sensation swirling deeper and deeper through all her tissue and consciousness, til she was one perfect concentric fluid of feeling, and she lay there crying in unconscious inarticulate cries.” ― “And that is how we are. There was nothing left to disguise or be ashamed of. By strength of will we cut off our inner intuitive knowledge from admitted consciousness. but the vast masses seem to be mackerel or herring, and if you're not mackerel or herring yourself, you are likely to find very few good fish in the sea.” ― “So as long as you can forget your body you are happy and the moment you begin to be aware of your body, you are wretched. She shared her ultimate nakedness with a man, another being.” ― “They lived freely among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical, sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, since they were women.” ― “You're spending your life without renewing it. "Lady Chatterley" is a kinder, gentler version of the story most people know as "Lady Chatterley's Lover." It's based on an earlier version of D. Lawrence's once-scandalous novel, which had the too perfect title, While involving Lawrence's approval of transcendent lust, the film also has a great deal of time for flowers, running water, closeups of hands and long shots of trees.
The film, directed by Pascale Ferran, is spoken in French, although we are to understand that the characters are English.Then as he began to move, in the sudden helpless orgasm, there awoke in her new strange thrills rippling inside her.Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite and melting her all molten inside.It was like bells rippling up and up to a culmination.She lay unconscious of the wild little cries she uttered at the last. She could no longer harden and grip for her own satisfaction upon him.
Let's begin with the genitals, or, as Groucho Marx called them, the netherlands.