If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.
It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.
All that I hope to say in books, all that I ever hope to say, is that I love the world.
Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.
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.
I am pessimistic about the human race because it is too ingenious for its own good. Our approach to nature is to beat it into submission. We would stand a better chance of survival if we accommodated ourselves to this planet and viewed it appreciatively instead of skeptically and dictatorially.
A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.
Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one.
Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.
I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult.