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? 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. WhiteTag: charlotte-s web charlotte
You're terrific as far as I am concerned.
E.B. WhiteDemocracy is the recurrent suspicion that more than half of the people are right more than half of the time.
E.B. WhiteI have yet to see a piece of writing, political or non-political, that does not have a slant. All writing slants the way a writer leans, and no man is born perpendicular.
E.B. WhiteTag: bias
When we slid the body into the grave, we both were shaken to the core. The loss we felt was not the loss of ham but the loss of pig.
E.B. WhiteOne solution ... for the house of the future is to have a place called a ‘dirty room.’ This would be equipped with appliances for all cleaning problems, and into it would be dumped everything dirty. But in most American homes the way to have a dirty room is to have a small boy; that’s the way we worked it for a number of happy years.
E.B. WhiteThe subtlest change in New York is something people don't speak much about but that is in everyone's mind. The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now: in the sound of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest edition. (Written in 1949, 22 years before the World Trade Center was completed.)
E.B. WhiteThere's no limit to how complicated things can get, on account of one thing always leading to another.
E.B. WhiteTag: complicated
The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind.
E.B. WhiteTag: open-mind open-doorway
Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.
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