en
Annie Dillard

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

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This winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1975, and listed by the New York Times as one of the best 100 non-fiction books of the century, gives timeless reflections on solitude, writing and faith amid the beautiful though sometimes brutal world of nature on the author's doorstep in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains.
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326 trykte sider
Oprindeligt udgivet
2015
Udgivelsesår
2015
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Citater

  • mariellajensenhar citeretfor 6 år siden
    I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I’d half-awaken. He’d stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest with his front paws, powerfully, arching his back, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I’d wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I’d been painted with roses.
  • Anthony Draperhar citeretfor 7 år siden
    The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home.
  • Anthony Draperhar citeretfor 7 år siden
    Theirs is the mystery of the continuous creation and all that providence implies: the uncertainty of vision, the horror of the fixed, the dissolution of the present, the intricacy of beauty, the pressure of fecundity, the elusiveness of the free, and the flawed nature of perfection

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