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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| ce029bb | You're not my real parents, every child has thought. I'm not your real child. But with orphans, it's true. What freedom, to thumb your nose authentically! | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 5e09584 | Roz added sheep to Heaven. They would be outside the window, naturally. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| e703409 | To nero den antisteketai. To nero reei. Otan buthizeis to kheri sou mesa tou, to mono pou niotheis ein' ena khadi. To nero den einai stereos toikhos kai den se stamataei. Omos pegainei opou thelei na paei kai tipota sto telos den mporei na tou antistathei. To nero einai upomonetiko. To nero pou stazei mporei na skapsei ena brakho. Na to thumasai auto, kore mou. Na thumasai pos eisai e mise phtiagmene apo nero. An den mporeis na upernikeseis.. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 0272610 | Per il Paradiso abbiamo bisogno di Te. L'Inferno ce lo possiamo fare da soli. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 03f6457 | Her face might be kindly if she would smile. But the frown isn't personal: it's the red dress she disapproves of, and what it stands for. She thinks I may be catching, like a disease or any form of bad luck. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 48fe861 | Like a White Russian drinking tea in Paris, marooned in the twentieth century, I wander back, try to regain hose distant pathways; I become too maudlin, lose myself. Weep...I sit in the chair and ooze like a sponge. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| a3ac35d | What thumbsuckers we all are...when it comes to mothers. | margaret-atwood mothers | Margaret Atwood | |
| 191c7ec | The difference between and . Lay is always passive. Even men used to say, I'd like to get laid. Though sometimes they said, I'd like to lay her. All this is pure speculation. I don't really know what men used to say. I had only their words for it. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 90e4cfa | Here's a health to our Captain, so gallant and free Whether stuck on a rock or asleep 'neath a tree Or rolled in the arms of some nymph of the sea Which is where we would all like to be, man! | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 476f35f | A space-time, between here and now and there and then, puncuated by dinner | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 405971d | They are boiling with the pressured energy of explosive forces confined in a small space, and with the fervor of all religious movements in their early, purist stages. It is not enough to give lip service and to believe in equal pay: there has to be a conversion, from the heart. Or so they imply. | fervor passion women | Margaret Atwood | |
| a936152 | Anything that doesn't fit this mode has been shoved into an area of lesser solemnity called 'genre fiction,' and it is here that the spy thriller and the crime story and the adventure story and the supernatural tale and the science fiction, however excellently written, must reside, sent to their rooms, as it were, for the misdemeanor of being enjoyable in what is considered a meretricious way. They invent, and we all know they invent, at le.. | literary-snobbery nonfiction | Margaret Atwood | |
| 13c8f5b | Debt . . . . that peculiar nexus where money, narrative or story, and religious belief intersect, often with explosive force. | debt story | Margaret Atwood | |
| f1fffee | My red skirt is hitched up to my waist, though no higher. Below it the Commander is fucking. What he is fucking is the lower part of my body. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 07b9f42 | Without a word she swivels, as if she's voice activated, as if she's on little oiled wheels, as if she's on top of a music box. I resent this grace of hers. I resent her meek head, bowed as if into a heavy wind. But there is no wind. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 12df069 | I reproached them all for not having told me of my son's departure, and for not stopping him, until that interfering old biddy Eurycleia confessed that she alone had aided and abetted him. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| bc6ef3a | The ochre-yellow linoleum floor hasn't been scrubbed for some time; splotches of dirt bloom on it like grey pressed flowers. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 993008c | Or he'd watch the news: more plagues, more famines, more floods, more insect or microbe or small-mammal outbreaks, more droughts, more chickenshit boy-soldier wars in distant countries. Why was everything so much like itself? | Margaret Atwood | ||
| bd21c85 | Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. If you can bend space you can bend time also, and if you knew enough and could move faster than light you could travel backward in time and exist in two places at once. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| bf259e7 | The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 8bf43c4 | Inside John, she thinks, is another John, who is much nicer. This other John will emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon, a Jack from a box, a pit from a prune, if the first John is only squeezed enough. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 434d332 | I knelt to examine the floor, and there it was, in tiny writing, quite fresh it seemed, scratched with a pin or maybe just a fingernail, in the corner where the darkest shadow fell: Nolite te bastardes carborundorum. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| ef1dc83 | Falling in love, although it resulted in altered body chemistry and was therefore real, was a hormonally induced delusional state. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 70bf4d7 | Falling in love,' we said; 'I fell for him.' We were falling women. We believed in it, this downward motion; so lovely, like flying, and yet at the same time so dire, so extreme, so unlikely. 'God is love,' they once said, but we reversed that, and love, like heaven, was always just around the corner. The more difficult it was to love the particular man beside us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting, always, fo.. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 0624ee5 | Boys by nature require these silences; they must not be startled by too many words, spoken too quickly. What they actually say is not that important. The important parts exist in the silences between the words. I know what we're both looking for, which is escape. They want to escape from adults and other boys, I want to escape from adults and other girls. We're looking for desert islands, momentary, unreal, but there. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 6ebe9c3 | Once she wasn't supposed to like it. To have her in a position she didn't like, that was power. Even if she liked it she had to pretend she didn't. Then she was supposed to like it. To make her do something she didn't like and then make her like it, that was greater power. The greatest power of all is when she doesn't really like it but she's supposed to like it, so she has to pretend. | power | Margaret Atwood | |
| e6d45ea | He has been trying to sing Love into existence again And he has failed. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 3ae0a9e | His mother said that all children were arsonists at heart, and if not for the lighter he'd have used matches. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| bfda7a2 | All Souls' Eve, when the spirits of the dead will come back to the living, dressed as ballerinas and Coke bottles and spacemen and Mickey Mice, and the living will give them candy to keep them from turning vicious. I can still taste that festival: the tart air, caramel in the mouth, the hope at the door, the belief in something for nothing all children take for granted. They won't get homemade popcorn balls any more, though, or apples: rumo.. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 89a58b8 | I have failed once again to fulfill the expectations of others, which have become my own. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 7bb2bae | She'd love to go over him with a fine-toothed comb. Rummage around in him. Turn him upside down. Empty him out. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| ee34906 | Betty's now have a patio garden, where the tourists can sit in the sun and fry to a crisp; it's in the back, that little square of cracked cement where they used to keep the garbage cans. They offer tortellini and cappuccino, boldly proclaimed in the window as if everyone in town just naturally knows what they are. Well, they do by now; they've had a try, if only to acquire sneering rights. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| b6f9fad | How long were you supposed to mourn, and what did they say? Make your life a tribute to the loved one. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 4cd188b | It was Colonel Parkman who upped stakes, crossed the border, and named our town, thus perversely commemorating a battle in which he'd lost. (Though perhaps that's not so unusual: many people take a curatorial interest in their own scars.) He's shown astride his horse, waving a sword and about to gallop into the nearby petunia bed: a craggy man with seasoned eyes and pointed beard, every sculptor's idea of every cavalry leader. No one knows .. | reality-check truth war wit | Margaret Atwood | |
| 52fa073 | Of late the three of them wouldn't even let him dry the dishes because he'd dropped too many of them on the floor. He'd done that on purpose, since it was useful to be considered inept when it came to chore division, | Margaret Atwood | ||
| a0666b0 | I didn't want to identify the body, or see it at all. If you don't see the body, it's easier to believe nobody's dead. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 90d3db6 | It was as if they could read each other's minds. No, not minds: each other's mindlessness. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 4ddbdd8 | The people in the chaos cannot learn. They cannot understand what they are doing to the sea and the sky and the plants and the animals. They cannot understand that they are killing them, and that they will end by killing themselves. And there are so many of them, and each one of them is doing part of the killing, whether they know it or not. And when you tell them to stop, they don't hear you. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| a21f3c3 | She had loved him, uselessly. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 9bde65b | nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from. There's nobody here I can love, all the people I could love are dead or elsewhere. Who knows where they are or what their names are now? They might as well be nowhere, as I am for them. I too am a missing person. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 86f0198 | gazing up at the stars through the gently moving leaves. They seem close, the stars, but they're far away. Their light is millions, billions of years out of date. Messages with no sender. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 595bc4b | I don't want her to be like me. Give in, go along, save her skin. That is what it comes down to. I want gallantry from her, swashbuckling, heroism, single-handed combat. Something I lack. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 0e75339 | You cynical shit," he told himself. Then he started to weep. "Don't be so fucking sentimental," Crake used to tell him. But why not? Why shouldn't he be sentimental? It wasn't as if there was anyone around to question his taste. Once in a while he considered killing himself-it seemed mandatory-but somehow he didn't have the required energy. Anyway, killing yourself was something you did for an audience, as on nitee-nitee.com. Under the ci.. | sentimental suicide | Margaret Atwood | |
| 08c9983 | Human society, they claimed, was a sort of monster, its main by-products being corpses and rubble. | Margaret Atwood |