I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. “Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.
E. B. WHITEGeese are friends to no one, they bad mouth everybody and everything. But they are companionable once you get used to their ingratitude and false accusations.
More E. B. White Quotes
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A poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning.
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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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Geese are friends to no one, they bad mouth everybody and everything. But they are companionable once you get used to their ingratitude and false accusations.
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Reading is the work of the alert mind, is demanding, and under ideal conditions produces finally a sort of ecstasy.
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Habitually creative people are prepared to be lucky.
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The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind.
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No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.
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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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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.
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Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
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Children are game for anything. I throw them hard words, and they backhand them over the net. They love words that give them a hard time, provided they are in a context that absorbs their attention.
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I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.
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I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.
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Salutations; it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning
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Loneliness is a strange gift.
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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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Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.
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I don’t know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.
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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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Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one.
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I am always humbled by the infite ingenuity of the Lord, who can make a red barn cast a blue shadow.
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English usage is sometimes more than mere taste, judgment and education – sometimes it’s sheer luck, like getting across the street.
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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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The main thing I try to do is write as clearly as I can. I rewrite a good deal to make it clear.
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A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.
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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. WHITE