What a lost person needs is a map of the territory, with his own position marked on it so he can see where he is in relation to everything else. Literature is not only a mirror; it is also a map, a geography of the mind. Our literature is one such map, if we can learn to read it as our literature, as the product of who and where we have been. We need such a map desperately, we need to know about here, because here is where we live. For the members of a country or a culture, shared knowledge of their place, their here, is not a luxury but a necessity. Without that knowledge we will not survive.
Margaret AtwoodGood writing takes place at intersections, at what you might call knots, at places where the society is snarled or knotted up.
Margaret AtwoodTags: writing
More powerful than God, more evil than the Devil; the poor have it, the rich lack it, and if you eat it you die?
Margaret AtwoodTags: nothing
For the children with their greedy little mouths represent the future, which like time itself will devour all now alive.
Margaret AtwoodHome is where the heart is, I thought now, gathering myself together in Betty's Luncheonette. I had no heart any more, it had been broken; or not broken, it simply wasn't there any more. It had been scooped neatly out of me like the yolk from a hard-boiled egg, leaving the rest of me bloodless and congealed and hollow.
I'm heartless, I thought. Therefore I'm homeless.
Tags: heartless
There were a lot of gods. Gods always come in handy, they justify almost anything.
Margaret AtwoodTags: fanaticism god religion dogma justification extremism inhumanity
I feel despised there, for having so little money; also for once having had so much. I never actually had it, of course. Father had it, and then Richard. But money was imputed to me, the same way crimes are imputed to those who've simply been present at them.
Margaret AtwoodTags: money
She who pays the undertaker calls the tune.
Margaret AtwoodWalking into the crowd was like sinking into a stew - you became an ingredient, you took on a certain flavour.
Margaret AtwoodTags: crowd
Why does the mind do such things? Turn on us, rend us, dig the claws in. If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. Maybe it's much the same.
Margaret AtwoodTags: nightmare
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