1920_lawrence_dh_women_in_love_95.topic_1.txt

is just the opposite, just the contrary, Hermione. We are all different and unequal in spirit - it is only the social differences that are based on accidental material conditions. We are all abstractly or mathematically equal, if you like. Every man has hunger and thirst, two eyes, one nose and two legs. We're all the same in point of number. But spiritually there is pure difference and neither equality nor inequality counts. It is upon these two bits of knowledge that you must found a state. Your democracy is an absolute lie - your brotherhood of man is a pure falsity, if you apply it further than the mathematical abstraction. We all drank milk first, we all eat bread and meat, we all want to ride in motor-cars - therein lies the beginning and the end of the brotherhood of man. But no equality. But I, myself, who am myself, what have I to do with equality with any other man or woman? In the spirit, I am as separate as one star is from another, as different in quality and quantity. Establish a state on that. One man isn't any better than another, not because they are equal, but because they are intrinsically other, that there is no term of comparison. The minute you begin to compare, one man is seen to be far better than another, all the inequality you can imagine is there by nature. I want every man to have his share in the world's goods, so that I am rid of his importunity, so that I can tell him: Now you've got what you want - you've got your fair share of the world's gear. Now, you one-mouthed fool, mind yourself and don't obstruct me.« Hermione was looking at him with leering eyes, along her cheeks. He could feel violent waves of hatred and loathing of all he said, coming out of her. It was dynamic hatred and loathing, coming strong and black out of the unconsciousness. She heard his words in her unconscious self, consciously she was as if deafened, she paid no heed to them. »It sounds like megalomania, Rupert,« said Gerald, genially. Hermione gave a queer, grunting sound. Birkin stood back. »Yes, let it,« he said suddenly, the whole tone gone out of his voice, that had been so insistent, bearing everybody down. And he went away. But he felt, later, a little compunction. He had been violent, cruel with poor