"Maurice opened his hand. Luminous petals appeared in it.
'You care for me a little bit, I do think,' he admitted, 'but I can’t hang all my life on a little bit. You don’t. You hang yours on Anne. You don’t worry about whether your relation with her is platonic or not, you only know it’s big enough to hang a life on. I can’t hang mine on to the five minutes you spare me from her and politics.'"
Maurice, Edward Morgan Forster
No comments:
Post a Comment