black
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I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.

E. B. White

Early 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. WHITE

Around Barn Bird Day Early Everywhere Field House Jubilee Summer Swamp Time Wood
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.
E. B. WHITE

Another Direction Do Get Men Only Sick Spider Step Walk
Trust me, Wilbur. People are very gullible. They’ll believe anything they see in print.
E. B. WHITE

Belief Country Gullible People Person Print See Trust
If a man is to be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most.
E. B. WHITE

Anything Beter Good Man Most Obsessed Perhaps Something Suppose
Life’s meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.
E. B. WHITE

Always Eluded Let Love Make Same
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
Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom.
E. B. WHITE

Freedom Oood Prefer Safety Well
Reading is the work of the alert mind, is demanding, and under ideal conditions produces finally a sort of ecstasy.
E. B. WHITE

Alert Condition Demand Finally Ideal Mind Produce Read Sort Under Work
I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
E. B. WHITE

Arise Between Desire Enjoy Morning World
Writing is one way to go about thinking, and the practice and habit of writing not only drain the mind but supply it, too.
E. B. WHITE

Practice Silly Think Thought Unjust Way Write
I believe in dreams. People should have faith in the songs poets sing.
E. B. WHITE

Believe Dream Faith People Poet Sing Song
“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
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.
E. B. WHITE

Daylight Fern Injustice Nevertheless Now One Pig Result Small Sure Try World
There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter.
E. B. WHITE

Born City Computer Country First Man New Roughly Take Three Woman
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
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

I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.

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I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.

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Popular Authors

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