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Life is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.
E. M. Forster
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E. M. Forster
Age: 91 †
Born: 1879
Born: January 1
Died: 1970
Died: June 7
Biographer
Essayist
Librettist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
London
England
Edward Morgan Forster
E Forster
EM Forster
Performances
Along
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Learn
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Life
Violin
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Performance
More quotes by E. M. Forster
It comes to this then: there always have been people like me and always will be, and generally they have been persecuted.
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I really don't know what happens next -- one so seldom does.
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If God could tell the story of the Universe, the Universe would become fictitious.
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We may divide characters into flat and round.
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Letters have to pass two tests before they can be classed as good: they must express the personality both of the writer and of the recipient.
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Expansion, that is the idea the novelist must cling to, not completion, not rounding off, but opening out.
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Towns are after all excrescences, grey fluxions, where men, hurrying to find one another, have lost themselves.
E. M. Forster
He had shown her all the workings of his soul, mistaking this for love.
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Don't be mysterious there isn't the time.
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Our final experience, like our first, is conjectural. We move between two darkness's.
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All invitations must proceed from heaven perhaps perhaps it is futile for men to initiate their own unity, they do but widen the gulfs between them by the attempt.
E. M. Forster
The so called white races are really pinko-grey.
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Pathos, piety, courage, they exist, but are identical, and so is filth. Everything exists, nothing has value.
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...the true spirit of gastronomic joylessness. Porridge fills the Englishman up, and prunes clear him out.
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For our vanity is such that we hold our own characters immutable, and we are slow to acknowledge that they have changed, even for the better.
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Words deserted him immediately. He could only speak when he was not asked to.
E. M. Forster
Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its highest. Live in fragments no longer
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Tolerance is just a makeshift, suitable for an overcrowded and overheated planet. It carries on when love gives out, and love generally gives out as soon as we move away from our home and our friends.
E. M. Forster
The advance of regret can be so gradual that it is impossible to say yesterday I was happy, today I am not.
E. M. Forster
We are all like Scheherazade's husband, in that we want to know what happens next.
E. M. Forster
