Even now; with a thousand little voyages notched in my belt. I still feel a memorial chill on casting off.
E. B. WhiteI am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. "Never worry about your heart till it stops beating.
E. B. WhiteIn a sense the world dies every time a writer dies, because, if he is any good, he has been a wet nurse to humanity during his entire existence and has held earth close around him, like the little obstetrical toad that goes about with a cluster of eggs attached to his legs.
E. B. White