black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

Writing is hard work and bad for the health.
E. B. WHITE

Bad Hard Health Work Writing
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
Democracy is itself, a religious faith. For some it comes close to being the only formal religion they have.
E. B. WHITE

Being Close Come Democracy Formal Itself Religion Some
I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.
E. B. WHITE

Bright Feel Future Less Man More Nature Optimistic Outwit Prove Spent Time
Habitually creative people are prepared to be lucky.
E. B. WHITE

Creative Habitually Lucky People
Salutations; it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning
E. B. WHITE

Fancy Good Morning Hello Just Say Solution Way
A despot doesn’t fear eloquent writers preaching freedom- he fears a drunken poet who may crack a joke that will take hold.
E. B. WHITE

Despot Drunken Eloquent Freedom Hold Joke Poet Preach Take Writer
We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. 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 Born Eating Heaven Help Little Perhaps Something
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.
E. B. WHITE

Kitchen Living Morning Room Sunday Woodshed
Before the seed there comes the thought of bloom.
E. B. WHITE

Before Bloom Come Seed Through
“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
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
The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind.
E. B. WHITE

Childhood Doorway Full Met Mind Open People Since World
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
From morning till night, sounds drift from the kitchen, most of them familiar and comforting. . . . On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it; it dries the wet sock, it cools the hot little brain.
E. B. WHITE

Comfort Familiar Kitchen Morning Most Night Sound Till
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

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.

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Popular Authors

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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More E. B. White Quotes