Great writing jumps from the page and bolts through the air, to resound in the mind and memory. This blog series is devoted to great lines that strike - in literature, speech, music and film.

In 1992, Columbia Pictures released the magnificent film A River Runs Through It, directed by Robert Redford and based on the semi-autobiographical novella of that name by American author Norman Maclean (1902–1990). The movie is a poignant drama about family and fly fishing, featuring Craig Sheffer as Norman, Tom Skerritt as his minister father, and Brad Pitt in the role of Paul, Norman’s charming but troubled younger brother. In my formative years - as I have been ever since - I was dazzled by Pitt’s goldenness, but even more so by the lush cinematography of the film, shot in the splendid Rocky Mountain region of Missoula, Montana.

While the relationship between the brothers and their father is the focus of the film, the story revolves around their shared love of a skilful sport in a wild natural setting - and in that way, the Big Blackfoot River features prominently in the drama as it unfolds onscreen. As a Canadian who did much outward-bound trekking and canoe camping in my youth, I have a deep affinity for the scenes in which the men spend time in and around the river, depicting the peaceful and energising experience of bonding with fresh water.

Without divulging the plot of a film well worth watching, its final lines - based on those that conclude the novella - are incredibly moving. In a verbal tribute to the primacy of nature, as the foundation of all existence, Maclean describes the world at the beginning and end of time:

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters.

In unifying natural elements with the language and spirit of humanity, these lines imagine the permanence of people as the ‘words’ of loved ones, woven into the earth and water. It’s a stunning bit of writing, made even more striking in the film by Redford’s soulful narration over images of an elderly Norman Maclean fly fishing alone in the Blackfoot River. Demonstrating the expert integration of its own sound and visual elements with Maclean’s words, A River Runs Through It was nominated for Best Music, Original Score and Best Adapted Screenplay in 1992, winning the Academy Award for Best Cinematography. Film artistry at its finest.