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Just think: in all the clean, beautiful reaches of the solar system, our planet alone is a blot our planet alone has death.

Annie Dillard

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Annie Dillard
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: April 30
Author
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Pittsburg
Pennsylvania
Annie Dillard Doak
Planets
Clean
System
Alone
Death
Blot
Beautiful
Solar
Think
Reaches
Thinking
Planet

More quotes by Annie Dillard

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I alternate between thinking of the planet as home - dear and familiar stone hearth and garden - and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners.
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We wake, if ever at all, to mystery.
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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 get to them, and the wear out their brains learning what folks expect, and spend their strength trying to rise over those same folks.
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We are here to bring to consciousness the beauty and power that are around us and to praise the people who are here with us.
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But enough is enough. One turns at last even from glory itself with a sigh of relief. From the depths of mystery, and even from the heights of splendor, we bounce back and hurry for the latitudes of home.
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Admire the world for never ending on you -- as you would an opponent, without taking your eyes away from him, or walking away.
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I breathed the air of history all unaware, and walked oblivious through its littered layers.
Annie Dillard
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Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you.
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Push it. examine all things intensely and relentlessly.
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The mind itself is an art object ... The mind is a blue guitar on which we improvise the song of the world.
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A schedule defends from chaos and whim. A net for catching days.
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Landscape consists in the multiple, overlapping intricacies and forms that exist in a given space at a moment in time.
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Time is the continuous loop, the snakeskin with scales endlessly overlapping without beginning or end, or time is an ascending spiral if you will, like a child's toy Slinky.
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The secret is not to write about what you love best, but about what you, alone, love at all.
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Whenever there is stillness there is the still small voice, God's speaking from the whirlwind, nature's old song, and dance.
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For writing a first draft requires from the writer a peculiar internal state which ordinary life does not induce. ... how to set yourself spinning?
Annie Dillard
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Cruelty is a mystery, and a waste of pain.
Annie Dillard
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The point of going somewhere like the Napo River in Ecuador is not to see the most spectacular anything. It is simply to see what is there.
Annie Dillard
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Nature's silence is its one remark, and every flake of world is a chip off that old mute and immutable block.
Annie Dillard
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The reader's ear must adjust down from loud life to the subtle, imaginary sounds of the written word. An ordinary reader picking up a book can't yet hear a thing it will take half an hour to pick up the writing's modulations, its ups and downs and louds and softs.
Annie Dillard