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E.M. Forster
“I believe in aristocracy, though -- if that is the right word, and if a democrat may use it. Not an aristocracy of power, based upon rank and influence, but an aristocracy of the sensitive, the considerate and the plucky. Its members are to be found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secreat understanding between them when they meet. They represent the true human tradition, the one permanent victory of our queer race over cruelty and chaos. Thousands of them perish in obscurity, a few are great names. They are sensitive for others as well as themselves, they are considerate without being fussy, their pluck is not swankiness but power to endure, and they can take a joke.”
E.M. Forster, Two Cheers for Democracy

E.M. Forster
“I should have gone through life half awake if you'd had the decency to leave me alone. Awake intellectually, yes, and emotionally in a way; but here--" He pointed with his pipe stem to his heart; and both smiled. "Perhaps we woke up one another. I like to think that anyway.”
E.M. Forster

E.M. Forster
“Miss Abbott, don't worry over me. Some people are born not to do things. I'm one of them.”
E.M. Forster, Where Angels Fear to Tread

E.M. Forster
“It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness, to think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile, and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven.”
E.M. Forster, Howards End

E.M. Forster
“Indoors herself, partaking of tea with old Mrs Butterworth, she reflected that it is impossible to foretell the future with any degree of accuracy, that it is impossible to rehearse life. A fault in the scenery, a face in the audience, an irruption of the audience onto the stage, and all our carefully planned gestures mean nothing, or mean too much.”
E.M. Forster, A Room With A View

E.M. Forster
“What the story does do, all it can do, is to transform us from readers into listeners, to whom 'a' voice speaks, the voice of the tribal narrator, squatting in the middle of the cave, and saying one thing after another until the audience falls asleep among their offal and bones. The story is primitive, it reaches back to the origins of literature, before reading was discovered, and it appeals to what is primitive in us. That is why we are so unreasonable over the stories we like, and so ready to bully those who like something else. Intolerance is the atmosphere stories generate.”
E.M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel

Philip Larkin
“I really am going to meet Forster: I thought I shouldn't, but apparently the old boy E.M.F. is saying with remembered my name & I am bid to John Hewitt's at 8 tomorrow. Shall I ask him if he's a homo? It's the only thing I really want to know about him, you see. I don't even care why he packed up writing.”
Philip Larkin, Philip Larkin: Letters to Monica

E.M. Forster
“Begun 1913
Finished 1914
Dedicated to a Happier Year”
E.M. Forster, Maurice

“Grief is like a well: you can never truly leave it but the walls grow wider and wider until one day you look up and realise that you can see the sky again.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“I have no need for money or a manor; I would be perfectly content living in a hut so long as I had you by my side. You know that I love you a thousand times more than any reason you could give for why we ought not be together. There is no other possible future for me than you. I would sooner die than stop loving you,' he growled.

They stared at each other, their chests rising and falling in unison. 'Then you had better make sure you find Rothbart because I'm not letting you go after a speech like that.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

E.M. Forster
“Indeed, he was sensitive rather than responsive. In every remark he found a meaning, but not always the true meaning, and his life, though vivid, was largely a dream.”
E.M. Forster, A Passage to India

E.M. Forster
“There are many ways of being a man; mine is to express what is deepest in my heart.”
E.M. Forster, A Passage to India

E.M. Forster
“To ascend, to stretch a hand up the mountainside until a hand catches it, was the end for which he had been born.”
E M Forster, Maurice

“...love is always enough. There is no greater force in this world and nothing it cannot do.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

E.M. Forster
“I believe in aristocracy, though—if that is the right word, and if a democrat may use it. Not an aristocracy of power ... but ... of the sensitive, the considerate.... Its members are to be found in all nations and classes, and all through the ages, and there is a secret
understanding between them when they meet. They represent the true human tradition, the one permanent victory of our queer race over cruelty and chaos. Thousands of them perish in obscurity, a few are great names. They are sensitive for others as well as themselves, they are considerate without being fussy, their pluck is not swankiness but the power to endure ...”
E. M. Forster Forster

“You and Aldous Huxley", she said, "both have the same superior hate for the rest of the human race and wouldn't go one inch out of your way to help anyone. Evil has far more reality than good in your minds.”
Kate Hennessy, Dorothy Day; The World Will Be Saved By Beauty: An Intimate Portrait of Dorothy Day

“He had been sleepwalking through his own life, a life that was a canvas devoid of colour, and at last, he had awoken to a dazzling reality.”
M. A. Kuzniar

“I find the world changed when it snows. Sometimes I wonder if it's the closest thing to magic I shall ever experience.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“For their was no finer family than the one you had chosen yourself.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“I will be here. Each and every day it snows. I am yours.'

'I want to see the bluebells carpet the woods, bathe in sunlight and swim in the lake when it's warm and golden with summer, and dance through fields of wildflowers with you.' Her eyes darkened. 'But that will never happen. It is an impossible dream. And I shall not have you condemned to a life of waiting for snowfall.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“You want to know how I see you?' Forster's voice turned husky. Detta's mouth was swollen from grazing his stubble and he couldn't stop looking at it, at her. 'When we are together, all I can think of is you, and when sleep comes, I dream of you.' Detta had stilled yet he continued, unable to stop. 'And when we're apart, I ache for you. Missing you is a physical pain that I cannot rid myself of and nor would I ever choose to because there is no sweeter pain than that which reminds me of you. You are my everything.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“You know, birds always find their way home, no matter the distance. Perhaps you will, too.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“A life was so fragile, spun from magic impossible to understand...”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“I would gladly wait a hundred months for a single day like this,' he told her.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“...all I want, all I could ever need, is you.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“I love you, Forster; whatever the future may hold for us, I want us to face it together,' she whispered.

'I will never leave you.' His heart swelled. 'It's you, Detta. For me, it's always been you.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“No,' he told her fiercely, tilting her chin up and looking deep into her ocean eyes. 'You deserve more. But I shall never stop trying to give you everything. For you, I would cut the stars from the sky.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“...I do not care for any future that doesn't include you. You, Detta, are my everything and I plan on loving you for a very very long time to come.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“I would marry you a thousand times over, Odette Lakely. Until the moon falls from the sky and the stars no longer glitter.”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

“Stay with me, Detta,' he told her through his tears. 'Please don't leave me, I can't bear a world without you in it; you're the love of my life and nothing makes sense without you. Stay with me. Just stay,' ...”
M.A. Kuzniar, Upon a Frosted Star

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