“We are here to witness the creation and abet it. We are here to notice each thing so each thing gets noticed.… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It is difficult to undo our own damage, and to recall to our presence that which we have asked to leave. It… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I sip my coffee. I look at the mountain, which is still doing its tricks, as you look at a still-beautiful face… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the spirit's one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzlingly spare and clean that… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The mountains are great stone bells; they clang together like nuns. Who shushed the stars? There are a thousand million galaxies easily… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world, Now I am ready. Now… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
What have we been doing all these centuries but trying to call God back to the mountain, or, failing that, raise a… — 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
If even rock was interesting, if even this ugliness was worth whole shelves at the library, required sophisticated tools to study, and… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I saw in a blue haze all the world poured flat and pale between the mountains — 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… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
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… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
