black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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.

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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
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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Science is better than sympathy, if only it is science.
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Unless we remember we cannot understand.
E. M. FORSTER

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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.
E. M. FORSTER

Around Blood Disturb Great Men Often Produce Uniformity
My conviction gains infinitely the moment another soul will believe in it.
E. M. FORSTER

Another Believe Conviction Gain Infinitely Moment Soul
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
Death destroys a man, but the idea of death saves him.
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There is an aristocracy of the sensitive. They represent the true human tradition of permanent victory over cruelty and chaos.
E. M. FORSTER

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You confuse what’s important with what’s impressive.
E. M. FORSTER

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Though life is very glorious, it is difficult.
E. M. FORSTER

Difficult Glorious Life Very
The main facts in human life are five: birth, food, sleep, love and death.
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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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Inside 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.
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Railway termini are our gates to the glorious and the unknown
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One person with passion is better than forty people merely interested.
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