When you say something, make sure you have said it. The chances of your having said it are only fair.
E. B. WHITEIf a man is to be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most.
More E. B. White Quotes
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Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig. A small one to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly.
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Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people– people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.
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When I get sick of what men do, I have only to walk a few steps in another direction to see what spiders do. Or what the weather does. This sustains me very well indeed.
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Nauseous. Nauseated. The first means “sickening to contemplate”; the second means “sick at the stomach.” Do not, therefore, say “I feel nauseous,” unless you are sure you have that effect on others.
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It is Sunday, mid-morning-Sunday in the living room, Sunday in the kitchen, Sunday in the woodshed, Sunday down the road in the village: I hear the bells, calling me to share God’s grace.
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The whole problem is to establish communication with ones self.
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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.
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A schoolchild should be taught grammar-for the same reason that a medical student should study anatomy.
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Semi-colons only prove that the author has been to college.
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All that I hope to say in books, all that I ever hope to say, is that I love the world.
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I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. “Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.
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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?
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Writing is one way to go about thinking, and the practice and habit of writing not only drain the mind but supply it, too.
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The best writing is rewriting.
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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






