No, the point is not only does time fly and do we die, but that in these reckless conditions we live at… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Landscape consists in the multiple, overlapping intricacies and forms that exist in a given space at a moment in time. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
What is important is the moment of opening a life and feeling it touch--with an electric hiss and cry--this speckled mineral sphere,… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“What I call innocence is the spirit's unself-conscious state at any moment of pure devotion to any object. It is at once… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
When I walk with a camera, I walk from shot to shot, reading the light on a calibrated meter. When I walk… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I have since only rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Hasidism has a tradition that one of man's purposes is to assist God in the work of redemption by "hallowing" the things… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It is the fixed that horrifies us, the fixed that assails us with the tremendous force of mindlessness. The fixed is a… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“This is a spendthrift economy; though nothing is lost, all is spent.” — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Nothing moves a woman so deeply as the boyhood of the man she loves. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
We live in all we seek. The hidden shows up in too-plain sight. It lives captive on the face of the obvious - the… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“...The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped. His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Father had stretched out his long legs and was tilting back in his chair. Mother sat with her knees crossed, in blue slacks, smoking a Chesterfield. The dessert dishes were still on the table. My sisters were nowhere in evidence. It was a warm evening; the big dining-room windows gave onto blooming rhododendrons. Mother regarded me warmly. She gave me… — Annie Dillard Copy Share
I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It should surprise no one that the life of the writer - such as it is - is colorless to the point of sensory… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain. This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“What can we make of the inexpressible joy of children? It is a kind of gratitude, I think—the gratitude of the ten-year-old who wakes to her own energy and the brisk challenge of the world. You thought you knew the place and all its routines, but you see you hadn’t known. Whole stacks at the library held books devoted to… — Annie Dillard Copy Share