You can serve or you can sing, and wreck your heart in prayer, working the world's hard work.
Annie DillardPeople love the good not much less than the beautiful, and the happy as well, or even just the living, for the world of it all, and heart's home.
Annie DillardOur interpreting the universe as an artifact absolutely requires that we posit an author for it, or a celestial fimmaker, dramatist, painter, sculptor, composer, architect, or choreographer. And no one has been willing openly to posit such an artist for the universe since the American transcedentalists and before them the Medieval European philosophers.
Annie DillardWe have not yet encountered any god who is as merciful as a man who flicks a beetle over on its feet.
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The writing that so thrills and exhilarates you, as if you were dancing right next to the band, is barely audible to anyone else.
Annie DillardMots clés writing-life
There is no such thing as an artist: there is only the world lit or unlit as the light allows. When the candle is burning, who looks at the wick? When the candle is out, who needs it?
Annie DillardThe sensation of writing a book is the sensation of spinning, blinded by love and daring.
Annie DillardAnything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you.
Annie DillardWe don't know what's going on here. If these tremendous events are random combinations of matter run amok, the yield of millions of monkeys at millions of typewriters, then what is it in us, hammered out of those same typewriters, that they ignite? We don’t know. 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. We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what’s going on here. Then we can at least wail the right question into the swaddling band of darkness, or, if it comes to that, choir the proper praise.
Annie DillardThe 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.
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