A Dillard Quotes
Collection of top 70 famous quotes about A Dillard
A Dillard Quotes & Sayings
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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
I smelled silt on the wind, turkey, laundry, leaves ... my God what a world. There is no accounting for one second of it (267).
— Annie Dillard
Landscape consists in the multiple, overlapping intricacies and forms that exist in a given space at a moment in time.
— Annie Dillard
Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.
— Annie Dillard
If you're going to publish a book, you probably are going to make a fool of yourself.
— Annie Dillard
The way to learn about a writer is to read the text. Or texts.
— Annie Dillard
I am a fugitive and a vagabond, a sojourner seeking signs.
— Annie Dillard
Why do we people in churches seem like cheerful, brainless tourists on a packaged tour of the Absolute?
— Annie Dillard
I had hopes for my rough edges. I wanted to use them as a can opener, to cut myself a hole in the world's surface and exit through it.
— Annie Dillard
Having chosen this foolishness, I was a free being. How could the world ever stop me, how could I betray myself, if I was not afraid?
— Annie Dillard
It was a clear, picturesque day, a February day without could, without emotion or spirit, like a beautiful women with an empty face.
— Annie Dillard
I think the dying pray at the last not "please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at the door.
— Annie Dillard
Innocence is a better world.
— Annie Dillard
Flung is too harsh a word for the rush of the world. Blown is more like it, but blown by a generous, unending breath.
— Annie Dillard
You can read in the space of a coffin, and you can write in the space of a toolshed meant for mowers and spades.
— Annie Dillard
Now the thing is no longer a vision: it is paper.
— Annie Dillard
I had good innings, as the British say. I wrote for 38 years at the top of my form, and I wanted to quit on a high note.
— Annie Dillard
Adverbs are a sign that you've used the wrong verb.
— Annie Dillard
One turns at last even from glory itself with a sigh of relief.
— Annie Dillard
No one can help you if you're stuck in a work. Only you can figure a way out, because only you can see the work's possibilities.
— Annie Dillard
Are you living just a little and calling that life?
— Annie Dillard
They dissolved when I tried to inspect them, or dimmed, or slid dizzyingly away, like a ship's stern yawing down the dark lee slope of a wave.
— Annie Dillard
Does anything eat flowers. I couldn't recall having seen anything eat a flower - are they nature's privileged pets?
— Annie Dillard
Our family was on the lunatic fringe. My mother was always completely irrepressible. My father made crowd noises into a microphone.
— Annie Dillard
I like the slants of light; I'm a collector.
— Annie Dillard
I wake expectant, hoping to see a new thing.
— Annie Dillard
An honest work generates its own power; a dishonest work tries to rob power from the cataracts of the given.
— Annie Dillard
Novels written with film contracts in mind have a faint but unmistakable, and ruinous, odor.
— Annie Dillard
As a life's work, I would remember everything - everything, against loss. I would go through life like a plankton net.
— Annie Dillard
What is a house but a bigger skin, and a neighborhood map but the world's skin ever expanding?
— Annie Dillard
Experiencing the present purely is being emptied and hollow; you catch the grace as a man fills his cup under a waterfall.
— Annie Dillard
It is the beginning of a work that the writer throws away.
— Annie Dillard
The courage of children and beasts is a function of innocence.
— Annie Dillard
This hospital, like every other, is a hole in the universe through which holiness issues in blasts. It blows both ways, in and out of time.
— Annie Dillard
I never met a man who was shaken by a field of identical blades of grass. An acre of poppies and a forest of spruce boggle no one's mind.
— Annie Dillard
It's a little silly to finally learn how to write at this age. But I long ago realized I was secretly sincere.
— Annie Dillard
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
Cruelty is a mystery, and a waste of pain.
— Annie Dillard
Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the dark.
— Annie Dillard
Life by its mere appalling length is a feat of endurance for which you haven't the strength.
— Annie Dillard
The dear, stupid body is as easily satisfied as a spaniel.
— Annie Dillard
I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck.
— Annie Dillard
It is no less difficult to write a sentence in a recipe than sentences in Moby Dick. So you might as well write Moby Dick.
— Annie Dillard
It was less like seeing than like being for the first time seen, knocked breathless by a powerful glance.
— Annie Dillard
You have to take pains in a memoir not to hang on the reader's arm, like a drunk, and say, 'And then I did this and it was so interesting.
— Annie Dillard
How can people think that artists seek a name? There is no such thing as an artist - only the world, lit or unlit, as the world allows.
— Annie Dillard
What a hideout: Holiness lies spread and borne over the surface of time and stuff like color.
— Annie Dillard
A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order - willed, faked, and so brought into being.
— Annie Dillard
We have not yet encountered any god who is as merciful as a man who flicks a beetle over on its feet.
— Annie Dillard
Lick a finger: feel the now.
— Annie Dillard
The mind itself is an art object ... The mind is a blue guitar on which we improvise the song of the world.
— Annie Dillard
The sea pronounces something, over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out.
— Annie Dillard
There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind.
— Annie Dillard
Doing something does not require discipline. It creates its own discipline - with a little help from caffeine.
— Annie Dillard
The novel is a game or joke shared between author and reader.
— Annie Dillard