In a free country it is the duty of writers to pay no attention to duty.
E. B. WHITEIt can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck.
More E. B. White Quotes
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Democracy is itself, a religious faith. For some it comes close to being the only formal religion they have.
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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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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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Oh, I never look under the hood.
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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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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.
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There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter.
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It can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck.
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When you say something, make sure you have said it. The chances of your having said it are only fair.
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Salutations; it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning
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Well,” said Stuart, “a misspelled word is an abomination in the sight of everyone.
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A despot doesn’t fear eloquent writers preaching freedom- he fears a drunken poet who may crack a joke that will take hold.
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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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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.
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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.
E. B. WHITE