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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.

E. B. White

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
The best writing is rewriting.
E. B. WHITE

Best Rewriting Write
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
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
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
A despot doesn’t fear eloquent writers preaching freedom- he fears a drunken poet who may crack a joke that will take hold.
E. B. WHITE

Despot Drunken Eloquent Freedom Hold Joke Poet Preach Take Writer
Writing is hard work and bad for the health.
E. B. WHITE

Bad Hard Health Work Writing
Good deeds never go unpunished.
E. B. WHITE

Ded Go Good never Unpunished
Never hurry and never worry!
E. B. WHITE

Hurry never Worry
Be obscure clearly! Be wild of tongue in a way we can understand.
E. B. WHITE

Clearly Obscure Tongue Understand Way Wild
“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
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.
E. B. WHITE

Addresses Again Before Down Heard Just Morning Night People Settle Voice
We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. 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 Born Eating Heaven Help Little Perhaps Something
Use the smallest word that does the job.
E. B. WHITE

Job Smallest Use Word
Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom.
E. B. WHITE

Freedom Oood Prefer Safety Well
I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
E. B. WHITE

Arise Between Desire Enjoy Morning World

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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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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