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

The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself, and the true writer always plays to an audience of one.
E. B. WHITE

Audience Duty Himself True One Play Pleasure Satisfy Whole Writer
A candidate could easily commit political suicide if he were to come up with an unconventional thought during a presidential tour.
E. B. WHITE

Candidate Come Commit During Easily Political Presential Suicide Tour Unconventional
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
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
I get up every morning determined to both change the world and to have one hell of a good time. Sometimes, this makes planning the day difficult.
E. B. WHITE

Both Challenge Determine Get Good Time Heel Morning One World
Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
E. B. WHITE

Always Lookout Presence Wonder
Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
E. B. WHITE

Another Day Hang Hat Hope Tomorrow Wind
Use the smallest word that does the job.
E. B. WHITE

Job Smallest Use Word
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
Life is like writing with a pen. You can cross out your past but you can’t erase it.
E. B. WHITE

Cros Erase Life Like Pen Put Writing
Stuart 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. WHITE

Climb Clitch led North Problem Road Rose Start Stuart Toward
The best writing is rewriting.
E. B. WHITE

Best Rewriting 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.
E. B. WHITE

Addresses Again Before Down Heard Just Morning Night People Settle Voice
I am always humbled by the infite ingenuity of the Lord, who can make a red barn cast a blue shadow.
E. B. WHITE

Always Blue Cast Humble Infinite Ingenuity Lord Make Shadow
A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.
E. B. WHITE

Condition Ideal Paper Put Wait Without Word Work Writer
I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. “Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.
E. B. WHITE

About Advice Beat Neighbour Remind Stop Till Worry
It is quite possible that an animal has spoken to me and that I didn’t catch the remark because I wasn’t paying attention.
E. B. WHITE

Animal Attention Catch Play Possible Quite Remark Spoken
Only a person who is congenially self-centered has the effrontery and the stamina to write essays
E. B. WHITE

Central Congenially Effrontery Essay Only Person Self Stamina Write
I am often mad, but I would hate to be nothing but mad: and I think I would lose what little value I may have as a writer if I were to refuse, as a matter of principle, to accept the warming rays of the sun, and to report them, whenever, and if ever, they
E. B. WHITE

Amd Lose Mad Nothing Often Think Winter
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
There 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. WHITE

Estimate Harder Keep Nothing Of Time Track
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
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
Be obscure clearly! Be wild of tongue in a way we can understand.
E. B. WHITE

Clearly Obscure Tongue Understand Way Wild
Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society – things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed.
E. B. WHITE

Bluffer Expression Great Guess Human Sailor Same Society True Weather
A poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning.
E. B. WHITE

Add Compress Heihhening Mean Much Music Poem Small Space
I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.
E. B. WHITE

Ferris Nothing Promising Space View Wheel

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

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