The emotions may be endless. The more we express them, the more we may have to express.
E. M. FORSTERBut it struck him that people are not really dead until they are felt to be dead. As long as there is some misunderstanding about them, they possess a sort of immortality.
More E. M. Forster Quotes
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My temple stands not upon Mount Moriah but in the Elysian Field where even the immoral are admitted. My motto is ‘Lord, I disbelieve – help thou my unbelief.
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Outside the arch, always there seemed another arch. And beyond the remotest echo, a silence.
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Human relations are impossible. When they are real they are uncomfortable, and when they are comfortable they are unreal. It was for the journey into solitude that the human soul was created.
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I believe in teaching people to be individuals, and to understand other individuals.
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How can I know what I think till I see what I say?
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The king died and then the queen died is a story. The king died, and then queen died of grief is a plot.
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Only a writer who has the sense of evil can make goodness readable.
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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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Nonsense and beauty have close connections.
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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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You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you.
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I have no mystic faith in the people. I have in the individual.
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What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote.
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We 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.
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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.
E. M. FORSTER