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An editor is a person who knows more about writing than writers do but who has escaped the terrible desire to write.

E. B. White

Make the work interesting and the discipline will take care of itself.
E. B. WHITE

Atkem Care Discipline Interest Itself Make
A poet’s pleasure is to withhold a little of his meaning, to intensify by mystification. He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it.
E. B. WHITE

Intensify Meaning Mystification Pleasure Poet Withhold
All writing is communication; creative writing is communication through revelation-it is the Self-escaping into the open.
E. B. WHITE

Communication Creative Escape Open Revelation Self Write Writing
Salutations; it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning
E. B. WHITE

Fancy Good Morning Hello Just Say Solution Way
Democracy is the recurrent suspicion that more than half of the people are right more than half of the time.
E. B. WHITE

Democracy Half More Person Recruitment Suspicion Time
Prejudice is a great time saver. You can form opinions without having to get the facts.
E. B. WHITE

Fact Form Get Great Opinion Prejudice Saver Time
Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.
E. B. WHITE

All Anything Ask Been Deserve Done Friend never You
A writer should concern himself with whatever absorbs his fancy, stirs his heart, and unlimbers his typewriter. … A writer has the duty to be good, not lousy: true, not false; lively, not dull; accurate, not full of error. He should tend to lift people up, not lower them down.
E. B. WHITE

Absorb Concern Heart Himself Stir Typewriter Writer
Most people think of peace as a state of Nothing Bad Happening, or Nothing Much Happening. Yet if peace is to overtake us and make us the gift of serenity and well-being, it will have to be the state of Something Good Happening.
E. B. WHITE

Bad Happen Happening Most Much Nothing Peace People State Think
Use the smallest word that does the job.
E. B. WHITE

Job Smallest Use Word
When an American family becomes separated from its toothbrushes and combs and pajamas for a few hours it considers that it has had quite an adventure.
E. B. WHITE

Become Comb Consider Country Family Few Hour Pajama Separate Toothbrush
And then, just as Wilbur was settling down for his morning nap, he heard again the thin voice that had addressed him the night before. “Salutations!” said the voice. Wilbur jumped to his feet. “Salu-what?” he cried. “Salutations!” repeated the voice.
E. B. WHITE

Addresses Again Before Down Heard Just Morning Night People Settle Voice
By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.
E. B. WHITE

Anyone Heaven Help Know Life Lift Little Perhaps Stand Trifle Try
No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader’s intelligence or whose attitude is patronizing.
E. B. WHITE

Attitude Decently Distrustful Intelligence Patronizing Reader Write
Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day. But if we forget to savor the world, what possible reason do we have for saving it? In a way, the savoring must come first.
E. B. WHITE

Awake Born Desire Every Inclination Morning Save Savor World
Well,” said Stuart, “a misspelled word is an abomination in the sight of everyone.
E. B. WHITE

Abomination Country Everyone Misspeklled People Person Sight Well
Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
E. B. WHITE

Always Lookout Presence Wonder
Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.
E. B. WHITE

Children Country Dearly Ever Forget Grandmother never New None People Peron Quote Spider
The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no friendliness, no anything
E. B. WHITE

Compunction Conscience Consideration Decency Kindness Milk Moral Rat Rodent Scruples
Loneliness is a strange gift.
E. B. WHITE

Gift Loneliness Strange
The essayist is a self-liberated man, sustained by the childish belief that everything he thinks about, everything that happens to him, is of general interest.
E. B. WHITE

Childish Essayist Everything Happen Liberate Self Sustain Think
Nationalism has two fatal charms for its devotees: It presupposes local self-sufficiency, which is a pleasant and desirable condition, and it suggests, very subtly, a certain personal superiority by reason of one’s belonging to a place which is definable and familiar, as against a place that is strange, remote.
E. B. WHITE

Charm Condition Desirable Devotees Fatal Local Nationalism Prepossess Self Sufficiency Two
“What are they, and where are you?” screamed Wilbur. “Please, please, tell me where you are. And what are salutations?” “Salutations are greetings,” said the voice. “When I say ‘salutations,’ it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning.
E. B. WHITE

Fancy Good Morning Salutation Scream What
You’re terrific as far as I am concerned.
E. B. WHITE

Concerned Far Terrific
The so-called science of poll-taking is not a science at all but mere necromancy. People are unpredictable by nature, and although you can take a nation’s pulse, you can’t be sure that the nation hasn’t just run up a flight of stairs.
E. B. WHITE

Called Mere Necromancy Poll Science Talking
I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.
E. B. WHITE

Ferris Nothing Promising Space View Wheel
You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway?
E. B. WHITE

Friend Itself Like Tremendous Web Wove

An editor is a person who knows more about writing than writers do but who has escaped the terrible desire to write.

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An editor is a person who knows more about writing than writers do but who has escaped the terrible desire to write.

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