England was alive, throbbing through all her estuaries, crying for joy through the mouths of all her gulls, and the north wind, with contrary motion, blew stronger against her rising seas.  What did it mean?  For what end are her fair complexities, her changes of soil, her sinuous coast?  Does she belong to those who have moulded her and made her feared by other lands, or to those who have added nothing to her power, but have somehow seen her, seen the whole island at once, lying as a jewel in a silver sea, sailing as a ship of souls, with all the brave world's fleet accompanying her towards eternity?

- E. M. Forster, Howards End - pp. 162-3

On their way thither they too looked up at the Wilcoxes' flat.  Evie was in the balcony, "staring most rudely," according to Mrs. Munt.  Oh yes, it was a nuisance, there was no doubt of it.  Helen was proof against a passing encounter but--Margaret began to lose confidence.  Might it reawake the dying nerve if the family were living close against her eyes?  And Frieda Mosebach was stopping with them for another fortnight, and Frieda was sharp, abominably sharp, and quite capable of remarking, "You love one of the young gentlemen opposite, yes?"  The remark would be untrue, but of the kind which, if stated often enough, may become true; just as the remark, "England and Germany are bound to fight," renders war a little more likely each time that it is made, and is therefore made the more readily by the gutter press of either nation.  Have the private emotions also their gutter press?  Margaret thought so, and feared that good Aunt Juley and Frieda were typical specimens of it.  They might, by continual chatter, lead Helen into a repetition of the desires of June.  Into a repetition--they could not do more; they could not lead her into lasting love.  They were--she saw it clearly--Journalism; her father, with all his defects and wrong-headedness, had been Literature, and had he lived, he would have persuaded his daughter rightly.

- E. M. Forster, Howards End - pp. 58-9