How old do you have to get before wisdom descends like a plastic bag over your head and you learn to keep your big mouth shut? Maybe never. Maybe you get more frivolous with age.
Margaret AtwoodA road is a process, not a location.
Margaret AtwoodYou should not be sad," he said, gazing at me with his melancholy, leathery walrus eyes. "It must be the love. But you are young and pretty, you will have time to be sad later." The French are connoisseurs of sadness, they know all the kinds. This is why they have bidets. "It is criminal, the love, " he said, patting my shoulder. "But none is worse."—
Margaret AtwoodI am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened.
Margaret AtwoodA prison does not only lock its inmates inside, it keeps all others out. Her strongest prison is of her own construction.
Margaret AtwoodI've learned to do without a lot of things. If you have a lot of things, said Aunt Lydia, you get too attached to this material world and you forget about spiritual values.
Margaret AtwoodYou want the truth, of course. You want me to put two and two together. But two and two doesn’t necessarily get you the truth. Two and two equals a voice outside the window. Two and two equals the wind. The living bird is not its labeled bones.
Margaret AtwoodHer metaphors for her children included barnacles encrusting a ship and limpets clinging to a rock.
Margaret AtwoodTags: humour
Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.
Margaret Atwood...the hearts gone bubonic with jealousy and greed, glinting through the vests and sweaters of anyone at all.
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