He was sad because his new friend was so bloodthirsty.
E.B. WhiteTags: humor
Wilbur didn't want food, he wanted love.
E.B. WhiteBut real life is only one kind of life—there is also the life of the imagination.
E.B. WhiteThird, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last--the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York's high-strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion.
E.B. WhiteA poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning. The city is like poetry: it compresses all life, all races and breeds, into a small island and adds music and the accompaniment of internal engines. The island of Manhattan is without any doubt the greatest human concentrate on earth, the poem whose magic is comprehensible to millions of permanent residents but whose full meaning will always remain elusive.
E.B. WhiteIf you don't know how to pronounce a word, say it loud!" (William Strunk) ... Why compound ignorance with inaudibility?
E.B. WhiteTags: confidence courage pronunciation
The mind travels faster than the pen; consequently, writing becomes a question of learning to make occasional wing shots, bringing down the bird of thought as it flashes by. A writer is a gunner, sometimes waiting in the blind for something to come in, sometimes roaming the countryside hoping to scare something up.
E.B. WhiteTags: writing inspiration creativity
We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or doing laundry.
E.B. WhiteA block or two west of the new City of Man in Turtle Bay there is an old willow tree that presides over an interior garden. It is a battered tree, long suffering and much climbed, held together by strands of wire but beloved of those who know it. In a way it symbolizes the city: life under difficulties, growth against odds, sap-rise in the midst of concrete, and the steady reaching for the sun. Whenever I look at it nowadays, and feel the cold shadow of the planes, I think: "This must be saved, this particular thing, this very tree." If it were to go, all would go -- this city, this mischevious and marvelous monument which not to look upon would be like death.
E.B. WhiteIt is by all odds the loftiest of cities. It even managed to reach the highest point in the sky at the lowest moment of the depression.
E.B. White« first previous
Page 13 of 17.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.