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We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting laundry.
—  E. B. White
We grow tyrannical fighting tyranny ... The most alarming spectacle today is not the spectacle of the atomic bomb in an unfederated world, it is the spectacle of the Americans beginning to accept the device of loyalty oaths and witch hunts, beginning to call anybody they don't like a Communist.
—  E. B. White
The future ... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done.
—  E. B. White
Everything in life is somewhere else, and you get there in a car.
—  E. B. White
I don't know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.
—  E. B. White
An unhatched egg is to me the greatest challenge in life.
—  E. B. White
Democracy is the recurrent suspicion that more than half of the people are fight more than half of the time.
—  E. B. White
Life's meaning has always eluded me and I guess always will. But I love it just the same.
—  E. B. White
Our vegetable garden is coming along well, with radishes and beans up, and we are less worried about revolution that we used to be.
—  E. B. White
From three to four, he planned to stand perfectly still and think of what it was like to be alive.
—  E. B. White
Computing machines perhaps can do the work of a dozen ordinary men, but there is no machine that can do the work of one extraordinary man.
—  E. B. White
I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.
—  E. B. White
It was the best place to be, thought Wilbur, this warm delicious cellar, with the garrulous geese, the changing seasons, the heat of the sun, the passage of swallows, the nearness of rats, the sameness of sheep, the love of spiders, the smell of manure, and the glory of everything.
—  E. B. White
I have occasionally had the exquisite thrill of putting my finger on a little capsule of truth, and heard it give the faint squeak of mortality under my pressure.
—  E. B. White

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