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Wilbur burst into tears. I dont want to die, he moaned. I want to stay alive, right here in my comfortable manure pile with all my friends. I want to breathe the beautiful air and lie in the beautiful sun.

E. B. White

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E. B. White
Age: 86 †
Born: 1899
Born: July 11
Died: 1985
Died: October 1
Editor
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Mount Vernon
New York
Elwyn Brooks White
E.B. White
Stay
Burst
Alive
Vegetarian
Dies
Dont
Friends
Breathe
Wilbur
Lying
Sun
Moaned
Beautiful
Air
Manure
Right
Tears
Vegetarianism
Comfortable
Pile

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Even now with a thousand little voyages notched in my belt. I still feel a memorial chill on casting off.
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Creation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions.
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There is a period near the beginning of every man's life when he has little to cling to except his unmanageable dream, little to support him except good health, and nowhere to go but all over the place.
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Old age is a special problem for me because I've never been able to shed the mental image I have of myself - a lad of about 19.
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I am still encouraged to go on. I wouldn't know where else to go.
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A man who publishes his letters becomes a nudist - nothing shields him from the world's gaze except his bare skin. A writer, writing away, can always fix things up to make himself more presentable, but a man who has written a letter is stuck with it for all time.
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The vision of milk and honey, it comes and goes. But the odor of cooking goes on forever.
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Advice to young writers wo want to get ahead without any annoying delays: don't write about Man, write about a man.
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