If we act the truth the people who really love us are sure to come back to us in the long run
E. M. FORSTERIf we act the truth the people who really love us are sure to come back to us in the long run
E. M. FORSTERThe only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little farther down our particular path than we have yet got ourselves.
E. M. FORSTERAt night, when the curtains are drawn and the fire flickers, my books attain a collective dignity.
E. M. FORSTERIt 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. FORSTERThere 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. FORSTERWhen I think of what life is, and how seldom love is answered by love; it is one of the moments for which the world was made.
E. M. FORSTERScience is better than sympathy, if only it is science.
E. M. FORSTERWe cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won’t do harm – yes, choose a place where you won’t do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine.
E. M. FORSTERBut 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.
E. M. FORSTERIt 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. FORSTERDon’t be mysterious; there isn’t the time.
E. M. FORSTERMost of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it, and the books and talks that would describe it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate, in the hope of justifying their own existence.
E. M. FORSTERUnless we remember we cannot understand.
E. M. FORSTERA poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself.
E. M. FORSTERInside 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.
E. M. FORSTERThe emotions may be endless. The more we express them, the more we may have to express.
E. M. FORSTER