"Many things that come into the world are not looked into. The individual says 'My crowd doesn't run that way.' I say, don't run with crowds."

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It was as if thousands and thousands of little roots and threads of consciousness in him and her had grown together into a tangled mass, till they could crowd no more, and the plant was dying. Now quietly, subtly, she was unravelling the tangle of his consciousness and hers, breaking the threads gently, one by one, with patience and impatience to get clear.

— D. H. Lawrence