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Annie Dillard
I startled a...
I startled a weasel who startled me, and we exchanged a long glance. . . . Our eyes locked, and someone threw away the...
Appealing workplaces are...
Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the...
Every book has...
Every book has an intrinsic impossibility, which its writer discovers as soon as his first excitement...
A schedule defends...
A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand...
You can't test...
You can't test courage cautiously.
Source: Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, ch. 6,...
I woke in...
I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and...
I woke at...
I woke at intervals until . . . the intervals of waking tipped the scales, and I was more often awake than...
Spend the afternoon....
Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you.
Source: From Charles Daney's...
There is no...
There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by.
The life of...
The life of sensation is the life of greed; it requires more and more. The life of the spirit requires less and less;...
No child on...
No child on earth was ever meant to be ordinary, and you can see it in them, and they know it, too, but then the times...
No; we have...
No; we have been as usual asking the wrong question. It does not matter a hoot what the mockingbird on the chimney is...
Just once I...
Just once I wanted a task that required all the joy I had. Day after day I had noticed that if I waited long enough,...
Crystals grew inside...
Crystals grew inside rock like arithmetic flowers. They lengthened and spread, added plane to plane in an awed and...
I am a...
I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my...
The sense impressions...
The sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain. This is philosophically interesting in a...
The secret of...
The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit, till you yourself are a sail, whetted,...
The body of...
The body of literature, with its limits and edges, exists outside some people and inside others. Only after the writer...
I don't know...
I don't know what it is about fecundity that so appalls. I suppose it is the teeming evidence that birth and growth,...
I noticed this...
I noticed this process of waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not far away I would be...