The whole problem is to establish communication with ones self.
E. B. WHITEWe’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.
More E. B. White Quotes
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A schoolchild should be taught grammar-for the same reason that a medical student should study anatomy.
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The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no friendliness, no anything
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In every queen there’s a touch of floozy.
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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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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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Mother: It’s broccoli, dear. — Child: I say it’s spinach, and I say the hell with it.
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“What are they, and where are you?” screamed Wilbur. “Please, please, tell me where you are. And what are salutations?” “Salutations are greetings,” said the voice. “When I say ‘salutations,’ it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning.
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An editor is a person who knows more about writing than writers do but who has escaped the terrible desire to write.
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In a free country it is the duty of writers to pay no attention to duty.
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A right is a responsibility in reverse.
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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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I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn’t know where else to go.
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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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I don’t know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.
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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