"Man is a mistake, he must go. There is the grass, and hares and adders, and the unseen hosts, actual angels that go about freely when a dirty humanity doesn't interrupt them - and good pure tissued demons : very nice."

It pleased Ursula, what he said, pleased her very much, as a phantasy. Of course it was only a pleasant fancy. She herself knew too well the actuality of humanity, its hideous actuality. She knew it could not disappear so cleanly and conveniently. It had a long way to go yet, a long and hideous way. Her subtle, feminine, demonical soul knew it well.

"If only man was swept off the face of the earth, creation would go on so marvellously, with a new start, non-human. Man is one of the mistakes of creation - like the ichthyonsauri. If only he were gone again, think what lovely things would come out of the liberated days; things straight out of the fire."

[D H Lawrence, Women in Love]

and, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite one truth is clear whatever is, is right