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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

The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no friendliness, no anything
E. B. WHITE

Compunction Conscience Consideration Decency Kindness Milk Moral Rat Rodent Scruples
Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together-just the two of you.
E. B. WHITE

Book Men Most Secret Women World
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
Habitually creative people are prepared to be lucky.
E. B. WHITE

Creative Habitually Lucky People
Television will enormously enlarge the eye’s range, and, like radio, will advertise the Elsewhere. Together with the tabs, the mags, and the movies, it will insist that we forget the primary and the near in favor of the secondary and the remote.
E. B. WHITE

Advertise Else Enlarge Enormously Eye Radio Range Television Writer
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
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
I have noticed that most men when they enter a barber shop and must wait their turn, drop into a chair and pick up a magazine. I simply sit down and pick up the thread of my sea wanderings, which began more than fifty years ago and is not quite ended.
E. B. WHITE

Barber Chair Drop Enter Magazine Men Most Notice Pick Shop Wait
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
Nauseous. Nauseated. The first means “sickening to contemplate”; the second means “sick at the stomach.” Do not, therefore, say “I feel nauseous,” unless you are sure you have that effect on others.
E. B. WHITE

Contemplate Country Eman People Person Place Second Sick Stomach
I believe in dreams. People should have faith in the songs poets sing.
E. B. WHITE

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

Charm Condition Desirable Devotees Fatal Local Nationalism Prepossess Self Sufficiency Two
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 don’t know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.
E. B. WHITE

Chicken Discourage Know Literature More
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 so-called science of poll-taking is not a science at all but mere necromancy. People are unpredictable by nature, and although you can take a nation’s pulse, you can’t be sure that the nation hasn’t just run up a flight of stairs.
E. B. WHITE

Called Mere Necromancy Poll Science Talking
English usage is sometimes more than mere taste, judgment and education – sometimes it’s sheer luck, like getting across the street.
E. B. WHITE

English Mere More Sometimes Taste Usage
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.
E. B. WHITE

Begin Cockpit Start Train Trim Usually Wait
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 Heaven Help Know Life Lift Little Perhaps Stand Trifle Try
Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom.
E. B. WHITE

Freedom Oood Prefer Safety Well
All that I hope to say in books, all that I ever hope to say, is that I love the world.
E. B. WHITE

All Hope Book Love World
“What’s miraculous about a spider’s web?” said Mrs. Arable. “I don’t see why you say a web is a miracle–it’s just a web.” “Ever try to spin one?” asked Mr. Dorian.
E. B. WHITE

Ever Miraculous Say See Spider Try Web
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
The whole problem is to establish communication with ones self.
E. B. WHITE

Communication Establish One Problem Self Whole
No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.
E. B. WHITE

Come Country Live Lucky One Should Unless

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.

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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.

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