Diane Ackerman





Diane Ackerman


Born
in Waukegan, Illinois, The United States
October 07, 1948

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Diane Ackerman has been the finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Nonfiction in addition to many other awards and recognitions for her work, which include the best-selling The Zookeeper’s Wife and A Natural History of the Senses. She lives with her husband Paul West in Ithaca, New York.

Average rating: 3.64 · 39,981 ratings · 6,033 reviews · 43 distinct works · Similar authors
The Zookeeper's Wife: A War...

3.47 avg rating — 27,698 ratings — published 2007 — 34 editions
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A Natural History of the Se...

4.16 avg rating — 5,258 ratings — published 1990 — 22 editions
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A Natural History of Love

3.83 avg rating — 1,326 ratings — published 1994 — 10 editions
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An Alchemy of Mind: The Mar...

3.91 avg rating — 909 ratings — published 2004 — 6 editions
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One Hundred Names for Love:...

3.80 avg rating — 1,158 ratings — published 2011 — 10 editions
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The Moon by Whale Light and...

4.14 avg rating — 782 ratings — published 1991 — 8 editions
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The Human Age: The World Sh...

3.66 avg rating — 642 ratings — published 2014 — 16 editions
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Cultivating Delight: A Natu...

3.95 avg rating — 416 ratings — published 2001 — 5 editions
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Deep Play

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3.79 avg rating — 339 ratings — published 1999 — 7 editions
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The Rarest of the Rare: Van...

4.07 avg rating — 262 ratings — published 1995 — 6 editions
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“I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I have just lived the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.”
Diane Ackerman

“Look at your feet. You are standing in the sky. When we think of the sky, we tend to look up, but the sky actually begins at the earth. We walk through it, yell into it, rake leaves, wash the dog, and drive cars in it. We breathe it deep within us. With every breath, we inhale millions of molecules of sky, heat them briefly, and then exhale them back into the world.”
Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of the Senses

“When I set a glass prism on a windowsill and allow the sun to flood through it, a spectrum of colors dances on the floor. What we call "white" is a rainbow of colored rays packed into a small space. The prism sets them free. Love is the white light of emotion.”
Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of Love

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