Annie Dillard
Annie Dillard
Annie Dillardis an American author, best known for her narrative prose in both fiction and non-fiction. She has published works of poetry, essays, prose, and literary criticism, as well as two novels and one memoir. Her 1974 work Pilgrim at Tinker Creek won the 1975 Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction. Dillard taught for 21 years in the English department of Wesleyan University, in Middletown, Connecticut...
ProfessionNon-Fiction Author
Date of Birth30 April 1945
CityPittsburgh, PA
door dying guest host last please pray prayer thank thanks
I think the dying pray at the last not please but thank you as a guest thanks his host at the door
time-flies duration doe
No, the point is not only does time fly and do we die, but that in these reckless conditions we live at all, and are vouchsafed, for the duration of certain inexplicable moments, to know it.
gears belief desks
Your work is to keep cranking the flywheel that turns the gears that spin the belt in the engine of belief that keeps you and your desk in midair.
caring human-nature humans
Caring passionately about something isn't against nature, and it isn't against human nature. It's what we're here to do.
rest-in-peace mystery life-is
Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery.
time men grace
Experiencing the present purely is being empty and hollow; you catch grace as a man fills his cup under a waterfall.
jest made earnest
The universe was not made in jest but in solemn incomprehensible earnest.
seasons
These are our few live seasons. Let us live them as purely as we can, in the present.
flirting men different
I'd seen a great many partial eclipses, but a partial eclipse has the same relation to a total eclipse as flirting with a man does to marrying him. It's completely different.
wings way cliffs
If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair... or go into business. You’ve got to jump off cliffs and build your wings on the way down.
understanding progress novelists
If I actually believed that the progress of human understanding depended on our crop of contemporary novelists, I would shoot myself.
waking scales awake
I woke at intervals until . . . the intervals of waking tipped the scales, and I was more often awake than not.
metaphysical irrational
The irrational haunts the metaphysical.
time children ascending
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.