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. WHITENationalism 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.
More E. B. White Quotes
-
-
Well,” said Stuart, “a misspelled word is an abomination in the sight of everyone.
E. B. WHITE -
I’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is! Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty-everything I don’t like. How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?
E. B. WHITE -
Good deeds never go unpunished.
E. B. WHITE -
There’s no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another.
E. B. WHITE -
Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
E. B. WHITE -
I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.
E. B. WHITE -
Writing is hard work and bad for the health.
E. B. WHITE -
We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.
E. B. WHITE -
Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one.
E. B. WHITE -
No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader’s intelligence or whose attitude is patronizing.
E. B. WHITE -
You’re terrific as far as I am concerned.
E. B. WHITE -
It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.
E. B. WHITE -
Life’s meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.
E. B. WHITE -
I believe in dreams. People should have faith in the songs poets sing.
E. B. 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