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A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.

E. M. Forster

Life is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.
E. M. FORSTER

Go Instrument Learn Life Long Must Performance Public Violin
I believe in teaching people to be individuals, and to understand other individuals.
E. M. FORSTER

Believe Individual People Teach Understand
Only a writer who has the sense of evil can make goodness readable.
E. M. FORSTER

Evil Makem Goodness Readable Sense Writer
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.
E. M. FORSTER

Aziz Being Express Heart Man Many Mine Slowly Way Wink
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.
E. M. FORSTER

Happen Horrified Human Insincere Myself Nothing Period Slumber Thrill
The kingdom of music is not the kingdom of this world; it will accept those whom breeding and intellect and culture have alike rejected.
E. M. FORSTER

Accept Alike Breed Culture Intelect Kingdom Music Reject
One has two duties – to be worried and not to be worried.
E. M. FORSTER

City One Two Worried Worry
It was pleasant to wake up in Florence, to open the eyes upon a bright bare room, with a floor of red tiles which look clean though they are not; with a painted ceiling whereon pink griffins and blue amorini sport in a forest of yellow violins and bassoons.
E. M. FORSTER

Barem Toom Bright Clean Country Floor Paint People Person Pleasant Tile Wake
A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
E. M. FORSTER

Else Hang Information Itself Nothing Poem Point Something Together True
The other damned saw what was happening and caught hold of it too. She was indignant and cried, “Let go-it’s my onion,” and as soon as she said, “my onion,” the stalk broke and she fell back into the flames.
E. M. FORSTER

Back Caught Cry Dammed Fell Flame Happen Hold Indignant Other Saw
Books have to be read it is the only way of discovering what they contain.
E. M. FORSTER

Book Contain Discover Only Read Way
One grows accustomed to being praised, or being blamed, or being advised, but it is unusual to be understood.
E. M. FORSTER

Accustomed Advice Being Blame Grow One Praise Understand Unusual
How can I know what I think till I see what I say?
E. M. FORSTER

Know Say See Think What
It was pleasant, too, to fling wide the windows, pinching the fingers in unfamiliar fastenings, to lean out into sunshine with beautiful hills and trees and marble churches opposite, and, close below, Arno, gurgling against the embankment of the road.
E. M. FORSTER

Beautiful Embankment Fastening Hill Opposite Pinch Pleasant Road Tree Unfamiliar Wide
It isn’t possible to love and to part.
E. M. FORSTER

Love Part Possible
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.
E. M. FORSTER

Art Ignore Love Muddle never Oull Out Possible Transmute

A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.

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A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.

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Popular Authors

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