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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.

E. B. White

Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.
E. B. WHITE

All Anything Ask Been Deserve Done Friend never You
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
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
Oh, I never look under the hood.
E. B. WHITE

Hood never Took Under
Be obscure clearly! Be wild of tongue in a way we can understand.
E. B. WHITE

Clearly Obscure Tongue Understand Way Wild
There is hardly a waiting room in the east that has not served as my cockpit, whether I was waiting to board a train or to see a dentist. And I am usually still trimming sheets when the train starts or drill begins to whine.
E. B. WHITE

Begin Cockpit Start Train Trim Usually Wait
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
Good deeds never go unpunished.
E. B. WHITE

Ded Go Good never Unpunished
Life is like writing with a pen. You can cross out your past but you can’t erase it.
E. B. WHITE

Cros Erase Life Like Pen Put Writing
Loneliness is a strange gift.
E. B. WHITE

Gift Loneliness Strange
A writer’s style reveals something of his spirit, his habits, his capacites, his bias…it is the Self escaping into the open.
E. B. WHITE

Bias Capacities Escape Habit Open Reveal Self Something Style Writer
Before the seed there comes the thought of bloom.
E. B. WHITE

Before Bloom Come Seed Through
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
“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.
E. B. WHITE

Fancy Good Morning Salutation Scream What
The best writing is rewriting.
E. B. WHITE

Best Rewriting Write
Well,” said Stuart, “a misspelled word is an abomination in the sight of everyone.
E. B. WHITE

Abomination Country Everyone Misspeklled People Person Sight Well

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

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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