Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.
Annie DillardOld memories are very easy to get except that once you write about something you've destroyed it.
Annie DillardIt has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale. So many things have been shown so to me on these banks, so much light has illumined me by reflection here where the water comes down, that I can hardly believe that this grace never flags, that the pouring from ever-renewable sources is endless, impartial, and free.
Annie Dillard