Quote

habit, a particularly insidious thug who chokes passion and smothers love. Habit puts us on autopilot.

Diane Ackerman

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Diane Ackerman
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: October 7
Author
Naturalist
Non-Fiction Writer
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Waukegan
Illinois
Insidious
Choke
Puts
Particularly
Habit
Smothers
Passion
Chokes
Love
Autopilot
Thug

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... love is an act of sedition, a revolt against reason, an uprising in the body politic, a private mutiny.
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And yet, words are the passkeys to our souls. Without them, we can't really share the enormity of our lives.
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Look in the mirror. The face that pins you with its double gaze reveals a chastening secret.
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Choice is a signature of our species.
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It's animal by animal that you save a species.
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We live on the leash of our senses.
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An animal on a leash is not tamed by the owner. The owner is extending himself through the leash to that part of his personality which is pure dog, that part of him which just wants to eat, sleep, bark, hump chairs, wet the floor in joy, and drink out of a toilet bowl.
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Of all the errands life seems to be running, of all the mysteries that enchant us, love is my favorite
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There are well-dressed foolish ideas just as there are well-dressed fools.
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Though we marry as adults, we don't marry adults. We marry children who have grown up and still rejoice in being children, especially if we're creative.
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I consider fiction a very high-class form of lying. I enjoy and admire it enormously, but I don't think I'm very good at it.
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History is an agreed-upon fiction.
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Who would drink from a cup when they can drink from the source?
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Nature neither gives nor expects mercy.
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Words are such small things, like confetti in the brain, and yet they are color and clarify everything, they can stain the mind or warp the feelings.
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We would lie on coral sand, below sugary stars, watching Cassiopeia mount her throne and the Great Bear wash its paws in the South. I would say, I have a secret to tell you. And, folding me in your arms, boyish and sly, you would answer: Whisper it into my mouth.
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In the early years of the Uprising, we survived on one meal a day of horse meat and soup, but by the end we ate only dried peas, dogs, cats and birds.
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In the winter, I enjoy cross-country skiing and raising orchids and amaryllises. If I could grow tropical flowers as perennials, I would, especially hibiscus and mandavilla.
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To begin to understand the gorgeous fever that is consciousness, we must try to understand the senses and what they can tell us about the ravishing world we have the privilege to inhabit.
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We evolved as creatures knitted into the fabric of nature, and without its intimate truths, we can find ourselves unraveling.
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