Creative writers are always greater than the causes that they represent.
E. M. FORSTERWorks of art, in my opinion, are the only objects in the material universe to possess internal order, and that is why, though I don’t believe that only art matters, I do believe in Art for Art’s sake.
More E. M. Forster Quotes
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It isn’t possible to love and to part.
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Have you ever noticed that there are people who do things which are most indelicate, and yet at the same time – beautiful?
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Books have to be read it is the only way of discovering what they contain.
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Outside the arch, always there seemed another arch. And beyond the remotest echo, a silence.
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The sort of poetry I seek only resides in objects Man can’t touch – like England ‘s grass network of lanes 100 years ago, but today he can destroy them and only Lord Farrer keeps him from doing it.
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She had been so wicked that in all her life she had done only one good deed-given an onion to a beggar. So she went to hell. As she lay in torment she saw the onion, lowered down from heaven by an angel. She caught hold of it. He began to pull her up.
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If we act the truth the people who really love us are sure to come back to us in the long run
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So I shan’t ever marry, for there aren’t such men. And Heaven help any one whom I do marry, for I shall certainly run away from him before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.
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There are periods in the most thrilling day during which nothing happens, and though we continue to exclaim, “I do enjoy myself”, or , “I am horrified,” we are insincere.
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But Humanity, in its desire for comfort, had over-reached itself. It had exploited the riches of nature too far. Quietly and complacently, it was sinking into decadence, and progress had come to mean the progress of the Machine.
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My conviction gains infinitely the moment another soul will believe in it.
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Inside its cocoon of work or social obligation, the human spirit slumbers for the most part, registering the distinction between pleasure and pain, but not nearly as alert as we pretend.
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At night, when the curtains are drawn and the fire flickers, my books attain a collective dignity.
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I won’t be protected. I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right. To shield me is an insult.
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The historian records, but the novelist creates.
E. M. FORSTER