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. WHITEHang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
More E. B. White Quotes
-
-
Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.
E. B. WHITE -
Life is like writing with a pen. You can cross out your past but you can’t erase it.
E. B. WHITE -
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 -
A good farmer is nothing more nor less than a handy man with a sense of humus.
E. B. WHITE -
Never hurry and never worry!
E. B. WHITE -
Luck is not something you can mention in the presence of self-made men.
E. B. WHITE -
The best writing is rewriting.
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 -
Creation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions.
E. B. WHITE -
Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
E. B. WHITE -
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 -
We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.
E. B. WHITE -
I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.
E. B. WHITE -
When you say something, make sure you have said it. The chances of your having said it are only fair.
E. B. WHITE -
Stuart rose from the ditch, climbed into his car, and started up the road that led toward the north…As he peeked ahead into the great land that stretched before him, the way seemed long. But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.
E. B. WHITE