But nothing is more opaque than absolute transparency.— Margaret Atwood
The most colossal Margaret Atwood quotes that are free to learn and impress others
I hope that people will finally come to realize that there is only one 'race' - the human race - and that we are all members of it.
Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.
A divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there's less of you.
i exist in two places, here and where you are.
I don't want to see anyone. I lie in the bedroom with the curtains drawn and nothingness washing over me like a sluggish wave. Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead.
We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly.
You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.
If the national mental illness of the United States is megalomania, that of Canada is paranoid schizophrenia.
You think I'm not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Nature is to zoos as God is to churches.
The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish drying on sand.
There's the story, then there's the real story, then there's the story of how the story came to be told. Then there's what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too.
Men are not to be told anything they might find too painful;
the secret depths of human nature, the sordid physicalities, might overwhelm or damage them. For instance, men often faint at the sight of their own blood, to which they are not accustomed. For this reason you should never stand behind one in the line at the Red Cross donor clinic.
In view of the fading animals the proliferation of sewers and fears the sea clogging, the air nearing extinction we should be kind, we should take warning, we should forgive each other Instead we are opposite, we touch as though attacking, the gifts we bring even in good faith maybe warp in our hands to implements, to manoeuvres
Nobody dies from lack of sex. It's lack of love we die from.
Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress.
Good writing takes place at intersections, at what you might call knots, at places where the society is snarled or knotted up.
I feel like cotton candy: sugar and air.
Squeeze me and I’d turn into a small sickly damp wad of weeping pinky-red.
Happy as a clam, is what my mother says for happy.
I am happy as a clam: hard-shelled, firmly closed.
One of the gravestones in the cemetery near the earliest church has an anchor on it and an hourglass, and the words In Hope. In Hope. Why did they put that above a dead person? Was it the corpse hoping, or those still alive?
Oppression involves a failure of the imagination: the failure to imagine the full humanity of other human beings.
But I began then to think of time as having a shape, something you could see, like a series of liquid transparencies, one laid on top of another.
If you disagree with your government, that's political.
If you disagree with your government that is approaching theocracy, then you're evil.
And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally.
I want all my hurts to be intentional.
Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.
Inside the peach, there is a stone.
A word after a word after a word is power.
The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them; there ought to be as many for love.
I exist in two places, here and where you are.
This is the solstice, the still point of the sun, its cusp and midnight, the year's threshold and unlocking, where the past lets go of and becomes the future; the place of caught breath.
A fist is more than the sum of its fingers.
Never pray for justice, because you might get some.
If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?
I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only.
I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.
What you get is no longer what you see.
It's clear, it's fresh, like a mint candy.
That was when they suspended the Constitution.
They said it would be temporary. There wasn't even any rioting in the streets. People stayed home at night, watching television, looking for some direction. There wasn't even an enemy you could put your finger on.
The proper study of Mankind is Everything.
As human beings, we are always torn between individual freedom and the ability of choose our actions, and the need for at least enough social structure so that anarchy, chaos, and warlordery - or the war of all against all - can be avoided.
All it takes,” said Crake, “is the elimination of one generation.
One generation of anything. Beetles, trees, microbes, scientists, speakers of French, whatever. Break the link in time between one generation and the next, and it’s game over forever.
The desire to be loved is the last illusion. Give it up and you will be free.
I myself have 12 hats and each one represents a different personality. Why just be yourself.
Some days I do appreciate things more, eggs, flowers, but then I decide I'm only having an attack of sentimentality, my brain going pastel Technicolor, like a beautiful-sunset greeting cards they used to make so many of in California. High-gloss hearts. The danger is grayout.
I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it.
Don't let the bastards grind you down.
What fabrications they are, mothers. Scarecrows, wax dolls for us to stick pins into, crude diagrams. We deny them an existence of their own, we make them up to suit ourselves -- our own hungers, our own wishes, our own deficiencies.
Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse.
Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear.