Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?
Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts?
Can the writer renew our hope for literary forms?
Why are we reading, if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days,
will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness,
and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries,
so we may feel again their majesty and power?
- from The Writing Life, by Annie Dillard.
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