The people I respect most behave as if they were immortal and as if society was eternal.
E. M. FORSTERThe final test for a novel will be our affection for it, as it is the test of our friends, and of anything else which we cannot define.
More E. M. Forster Quotes
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Do we find happiness so often that we should turn it off the box when it happens to sit there?
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You told me once that we shall be judged by our intentions, not by our accomplishments. I thought it a grand remark. But we must intend to accomplish – not sit intending on a chair.
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Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.
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It makes a difference doesn’t it, whether we fully fence ourselves in, or whether we are fenced out by the barriers of others?
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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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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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It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.
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Outside the arch, always there seemed another arch. And beyond the remotest echo, a silence.
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Unless we remember we cannot understand.
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The emotions may be endless. The more we express them, the more we may have to express.
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Creative writers are always greater than the causes that they represent.
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Aziz winked at him slowly and said: “…There are many ways of being a man; mine is to express what is deepest in my heart.
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I am sure that if the mothers of various nations could meet, there would be no more wars.
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Life is sometimes life and sometimes only a drama, and one must learn to distinguish t’other from which . . .
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The armour of falsehood is subtly wrought out of darkness, and hides a man not only from others, but from his own soul.
E. M. FORSTER