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I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all.

E. B. White

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.
E. B. WHITE

Childish Essayist Everything Happen Liberate Self Sustain Think
If a man is to be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most.
E. B. WHITE

Anything Beter Good Man Most Obsessed Perhaps Something Suppose
There is nothing harder to estimate than a writer’s time, nothing harder to keep track of. There are moments—moments of sustained creation—when his time is fairly valuable; and there are hours and hours when a writer’s time isn’t worth the paper he is not writing anything on.
E. B. WHITE

Estimate Harder Keep Nothing Of Time Track
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
I have one share in corporate Earth, and I am nervous about the management.
E. B. WHITE

Corporate Earth Management Nervous
In a free country it is the duty of writers to pay no attention to duty.
E. B. WHITE

Attention Country Duty Writer
When an American family becomes separated from its toothbrushes and combs and pajamas for a few hours it considers that it has had quite an adventure.
E. B. WHITE

Become Comb Consider Country Family Few Hour Pajama Separate Toothbrush
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
Old age is a special problem for me because I’ve never been able to shed the mental image I have of myself – a lad of about 19.
E. B. WHITE

Age Been Image Mental Myself never Nineteen Old Problem Shed Special
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

Kitchen Living Morning Room Sunday Woodshed
When you say something, make sure you have said it. The chances of your having said it are only fair.
E. B. WHITE

Chance Far Have Make Only Say Something Sure
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
A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can’t get it by breeding for it, and you can’t buy it with money. It just happens along.
E. B. WHITE

Accident Companisoble Indispensable Nature Reality
Oh, I never look under the hood.
E. B. WHITE

Hood never Took Under
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
A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.
E. B. WHITE

Condition Ideal Paper Put Wait Without Word Work Writer
It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.
E. B. WHITE

Along Come Fiend Good Someone True Writer
To achieve style, begin by affecting none.
E. B. WHITE

Archive Being Effect None Style
Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day. But if we forget to savor the world, what possible reason do we have for saving it? In a way, the savoring must come first.
E. B. WHITE

Awake Born Desire Every Inclination Morning Save Savor World
I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.
E. B. WHITE

Ferris Nothing Promising Space View Wheel
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
I am often mad, but I would hate to be nothing but mad: and I think I would lose what little value I may have as a writer if I were to refuse, as a matter of principle, to accept the warming rays of the sun, and to report them, whenever, and if ever, they
E. B. WHITE

Amd Lose Mad Nothing Often Think Winter
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

Bad Happen Happening Most Much Nothing Peace People State Think
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
The whole duty of a writer is to please and satisfy himself, and the true writer always plays to an audience of one.
E. B. WHITE

Audience Duty Himself True One Play Pleasure Satisfy Whole Writer
A poet’s pleasure is to withhold a little of his meaning, to intensify by mystification. He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it.
E. B. WHITE

Intensify Meaning Mystification Pleasure Poet Withhold
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

I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all.

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I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all.

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