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Quote by E.M. Forster

“He whispered: ‘Is is this? Is this possible? I’ll put a marvel to you. That your cousin has always hoped. That from the very first moment we met, she hoped, far down in her mind, that we should be like this — of course, very far down. That she fought us on the surface, and yet she hoped. I can’t explain her any other way. Can you? Look how she kept me alive in you all the summer; how she gave you no peace; how month after month, she became more eccentric and unreliable. The sight of us haunted her — or she couldn’t have described us as she did to her friend. There are details — it burned. I read the books afterwards. She is not frozen, Lucy, she is not withered up all through. She tore us apart twice, but in the rectory that evening she was given one more chance to make us happy. We can never make friends with her or thank her. But I do believe that, far down in her heart, far below all speech and behaviour, she is glad.”

Quote by E.M. Forster

Work

A Room with a View

E. M. Forster's 'A Room with a View' is a narrative that delves into the experiences of Lucy Honeychurch, a young woman from a British upper-middle-class family. The story unfolds in Italy and England, as Lucy navigates the complexities of love, societal expectations, and her own evolving sense of self. The novel is renowned for its vivid portrayal of the English upper class and the transformative power of travel and personal discovery. more

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E.M. Forster

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“He whispered: ‘Is it this? Is this possible? I’ll put a marvel to you. That your cousin has always hoped. That from the very first moment we met, she hoped, far down in her mind, that we should be like this — of course, very far down. That she fought us on the surface, and yet she hoped. I can’t explain her any other way. Can you? Look how she kept me alive in you all the summer; how she gave you no peace; how month after month, she became more eccentric and unreliable. The sight of us haunted her — or she couldn’t have described us as she did to her friend. There are details — it burned. I read the books afterwards. She is not frozen, Lucy, she is not withered up all through. She tore us apart twice, but in the rectory that evening she was given one more chance to make us happy. We can never make friends with her or thank her. But I do believe that, far down in her heart, far below all speech and behaviour, she is glad.”

“Ένας διαφορετικός εαυτός ζούσε εντός της. Έκαιγε λιωμένος, απαλός κι ευαίσθητος μέσα στη μήτρα και τα σπλάχνα της. Και μ’ αυτόν τον άλλον εαυτό της, τον λάτρευε. Μέχρι που τα γόνατά της λύγιζαν την ώρα που περπατούσε. Βαθιά μέσα, η μήτρα και τα σπλάχνα της ξεχείλιζαν και γέμιζαν ζωή, αλλά ταυτόχρονα ένιωθε ευάλωτη και απελπισμένη από τον τρόπο που τον λάτρευε, σαν το πιο ονειροπαρμένο θηλυκό.”