Sublime

I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk. But it’s spring, and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing… I am touching a few leaves. I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field. And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening... See more

The Writing Life - Annie Dillard

> One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal

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