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. WHITEDemocracy is itself, a religious faith. For some it comes close to being the only formal religion they have.
More E. B. White Quotes
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From morning till night, sounds drift from the kitchen, most of them familiar and comforting. . . . On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it; it dries the wet sock, it cools the hot little brain.
E. B. WHITE -
Mother: It’s broccoli, dear. — Child: I say it’s spinach, and I say the hell with it.
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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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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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The essayist is a self-liberated man, sustained by the childish belief that everything he thinks about, everything that happens to him, is of general interest.
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I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. “Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.
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There is nothing more likely to start disagreement among people or countries than an agreement.
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Writing is one way to go about thinking, and the practice and habit of writing not only drain the mind but supply it, too.
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There’s no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another.
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Good deeds never go unpunished.
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The whole problem is to establish communication with ones self.
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No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader’s intelligence or whose attitude is patronizing.
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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.
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Life’s meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.
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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