A schoolchild should be taught grammar-for the same reason that a medical student should study anatomy.
E. B. WHITEA schoolchild should be taught grammar-for the same reason that a medical student should study anatomy.
E. B. WHITEAlways be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
E. B. WHITEI have one share in corporate Earth, and I am nervous about the management.
E. B. WHITEStuart rose from the ditch, climbed into his car, and started up the road that led toward the north…As he peeked ahead into the great land that stretched before him, the way seemed long. But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.
E. B. WHITEOne of the most time-consuming things is to have an enemy.
E. B. WHITEThere is nothing harder to estimate than a writer’s time, nothing harder to keep track of. There are moments—moments of sustained creation—when his time is fairly valuable; and there are hours and hours when a writer’s time isn’t worth the paper he is not writing anything on.
E. B. WHITEHabitually creative people are prepared to be lucky.
E. B. WHITEUnderstanding humor is like dissecting a live frog. It can be done, but the frog tends to die in the process.
E. B. WHITEThe whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself, and the true writer always plays to an audience of one.
E. B. WHITEWriting is both mask and unveiling.
E. B. WHITEI’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is! Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty-everything I don’t like. How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?
E. B. WHITEMake the work interesting and the discipline will take care of itself.
E. B. WHITEI am always humbled by the infite ingenuity of the Lord, who can make a red barn cast a blue shadow.
E. B. WHITEAll writing is communication; creative writing is communication through revelation-it is the Self-escaping into the open.
E. B. WHITEEarly summer days are a jubilee time for birds. In the fields, around the house, in the barn, in the woods, in the swamp – everywhere love and songs and nests and eggs.
E. B. WHITELife’s meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.
E. B. WHITE