I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and… — 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… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I am sorry I ran from you. I am still running, running from that knowledge, that eye, that love from which there… — 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… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Private life, book life, took place where words met imagination without passing through the world.” — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The world did not have me in mind; it had no mind. It was a coincidental collection of things and people, of… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It would seem that emotions are the curse, not death-emotions that appear to have developed upon a few freaks as a special… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
How can people think that artists seek a name? There is no such thing as an artist - only the world, lit… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
How can people think that artists seek a name? A name, like a face, is something you have when you're not alone.… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The painter... does not fit the paints to the world. He most certainly does not fit the world to himself. He fits… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Fiction keeps its audience by retaining the world as its subject matter. People like the world. Many people actually prefer it to… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
All the green in the planted world consists of these whole, rounded chloroplasts wending their ways in water. If you analyze a… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The writer studies literature, not the world. He is careful of what he reads, for that is what he will write. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
She is nine, beloved, as open-faced as the sky and as self-contained. I have watched her grow. As recently as three or… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
After the one extravagant gesture of creation in the first place, the universe has continued to deal exclusively in extravagances, flinging intricacies… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Nature seems to exult in abounding radicality, extremism, anarchy. If we were to judge nature by its common sense or likelihood, we… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I had been chipping at the world idly, and had by accident uncovered vast and labyrinthine further worlds within it. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside by a generous hand. But- and this is the point- who… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
There is no such thing as an artist - only the world, lit or unlit, as the world allows. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Many writers do little else but sit in small rooms recalling the real world. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The mind wants to live forever, or to learn a very good reason why not. The mind wants the world to return… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
If we were to judge nature by common sense or likelihood, we wouldn't believe the world existed. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
There is no such thing as an artist: there is only the world lit or unlit as the light allows. When the… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own… — 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
