Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff. Annie Dillard More Quotes by Annie Dillard More Quotes From 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 merciful feet men The mountains are great stone bells; they clang together like nuns. Who shushed the stars? There are a thousand million galaxies easily seen in the Palomar reflector; collisions between and among them do, of course, occur. But these collisions are very long and silent slides. Billions of stars sift amont each other untouched, too distant even to be moved, heedless as always, hushed. The sea pronounces something, over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out. But God knows I have tried. Annie Dillard stars sea long We are here to witness. There is nothing else to do with those mute materials we do not need. Until Larry teaches his stone to talk, until God changes his mind, or until the pagan gods slip back to their hilltop groves, all we can do with the whole inhuman array is watch it. Annie Dillard stones mind watches All the green in the planted world consists of these whole, rounded chloroplasts wending their ways in water. If you analyze a molecule of chlorophyll itself, what you get is one hundred thirty-six atoms of hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen arranged in an exact and complex relationship around a central ring. At the ring's center is a single atom of magnesium. Now: If you remove the atom of magnesium and in its exact place put an atom of iron, you get a molecule of hemoglobin. The iron atom combines with all the other atoms to make red blood, the streaming red dots in the goldfish's tail. Annie Dillard iron oxygen blood Push it. examine all things intensely and relentlessly. Annie Dillard all-things Then why did you tell me? Annie Dillard atheism atheist religion I wake up thinking: What am I reading? What will I read next? I'm terrified that I'll run out, that I will read through all I want to, and be forced to learn wildflowers at last, to keep awake. Annie Dillard reading running thinking What is important is the moment of opening a life and feeling it touch--with an electric hiss and cry--this speckled mineral sphere, our present world. Annie Dillard important feelings world 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 doe ordinary writing I come down to the water to cool my eyes. But everywhere I look I see fire; that which isn't flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames. Annie Dillard flames eye fire Cruelty is a mystery, and a waste of pain. Annie Dillard waste mystery pain The morning woods were utterly new. A strong yellow light pooled beneath the trees; my shadow appeared and vanished on the path, since a third of the trees I walked under were still bare, a third spread a luminous haze wherever they grew, and another third blocked the sun with new, whole leaves. The snakes were out - I saw a bright, smashed one on the path - and the butterflies were vaulting and furling about; the phlox was at its peak, and even the evergreens looked greener, newly created and washed. Annie Dillard butterfly strong morning There is a certain age at which a child looks at you in all earnestness and delivers a long, pleased speech in all the true inflections of spoken English, but with not one recognizable syllable. There is no way you can tell the child that if language had been a melody, he had mastered it and done well, but that since it was in fact a sense, he had botched it utterly. Annie Dillard age long children We are here to witness the creation and to abet it. Annie Dillard abet creation healing Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle, curved tunnels of leaf miners on the face of a leaf Annie Dillard mystery tunnels faces Admire the world for never ending on you -- as you would an opponent, without taking your eyes away from him, or walking away. Annie Dillard walking-away eye world There were no formerly heroic times, and there was no formerly pure generation. There is no one here but us chickens, and so it has always been. Annie Dillard heroic chickens generations Nothing on earth is more gladdening than knowing we must roll up our sleeves and move back the boundaries of the humanly possible once more. Annie Dillard knowing inspirational moving Every book has an intrinsic impossibility, which its writer discovers as soon as his first excitement dwindles. Annie Dillard excitement book firsts He judged the instant and let go; he flung himself loose into the stars. Annie Dillard instant stars letting-go
