All writing is communication; creative writing is communication through revelation-it is the Self-escaping into the open.
E. B. WHITEIt 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.
More E. B. White Quotes
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I have one share in corporate Earth, and I am nervous about the management.
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In a man’s middle years there is scarcely a part of the body he would hesitate to turn over to the proper authorities.
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Everything in life is somewhere else, and you get there in a car.
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The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself, and the true writer always plays to an audience of one.
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You’re terrific as far as I am concerned.
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Extreme cold when it first arrives seems to generate cheerfulness and sociability. For a few hours all life’s dubious problems are dropped in favor of the clear and congenial task of keeping alive.
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A writer’s style reveals something of his spirit, his habits, his capacites, his bias…it is the Self escaping into the open.
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A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer… He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.
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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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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?
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There is hardly a waiting room in the east that has not served as my cockpit, whether I was waiting to board a train or to see a dentist. And I am usually still trimming sheets when the train starts or drill begins to whine.
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You can dissect a joke just as you can a frog. But it tends to die on you.
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Writing is hard work and bad for the health.
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No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.
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Is there anything in the universe more beautiful and protective than the simple complexity of a spider’s web?
E. B. WHITE