I believe we shall come to care about people less and less, Helen. The more people one knows, the easier it becomes to replace them. It’s one of the curses of London. I quite expect to end my life caring most for a place.
E. M. FORSTERThe emotions may be endless. The more we express them, the more we may have to express.
More E. M. Forster Quotes
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She stopped and leant her elbows against the parapet of the embankment. He did likewise. There is at times a magic in identity of position; it is one of the things that have suggested to us eternal comradeship.
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Works 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.
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I distrust Great Men. They produce a desert of uniformity around them and often a pool of blood too, and I always feel a little man’s pleasure when they come a cropper.
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The people I respect most behave as if they were immortal and as if society was eternal.
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Creative writers are always greater than the causes that they represent.
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Think before you speak is criticism’s motto; speak before you think, creation’s.
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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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Mistrust all enterprises that require new clothes.
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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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Railway termini are our gates to the glorious and the unknown
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I think you’re beautiful, the only beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I love your voice and everything to do with you, down to your clothes or the room you are sitting in. I adore you.
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I have only got down on to paper, really, three types of people: the person I think I am, the people who irritate me, and the people I’d like to be.
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Life is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.
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One must be fond of people and trust them if one is not to make a mess of life.
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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.
E. M. FORSTER