200+ "Margaret Atwood" Quotes And Sayings

Margaret Atwood has become one of the most celebrated writers of the past twenty years, bringing an extraordinarily wide range of skills to her work. Her novels have been praised for their "extraordinary power," "a mind of her own," and "the ability to expose the darkness at the heart of civilization." Her stories are often set in the future, but are grounded in the present. She is also a poet, playwright, essayist, and critic.

I would like to be the air that inhabits you...
I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary. Margaret Atwood
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, for the incarnation. That word, made flesh. And sometimes it happened, for a time. That kind of love comes and goes and is hard to remember afterwards, like pain. You would look at the man one day and you would think, I loved you, and the tense would be past, and you would be filled with a sense of wonder, because it was such an amazing and precarious and dumb thing to have done; and you would know too why your friends had been evasive about it, at the time. There is a good deal of comfort, now, in remembering this. Margaret Atwood
How could I be sleeping with this particular man.... Surely...
How could I be sleeping with this particular man.... Surely only true love could justify my lack of taste. Margaret Atwood
A truth should exist, it should not be usedlike this. If I love youis that a fact or a weapon? Margaret Atwood
Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have...
Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love. Margaret Atwood
Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It's like the tide going out, revealing whatever's been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future. The ruin you've made. Margaret Atwood
How could I have been so ignorant? she thinks. So stupid, so unseeing, so given over to carelessness. But without such ignorance, such carelessness, how could we live? If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next–if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions–you'd be doomed. You'd be as ruined as God. You'd be a stone. You'd never eat or drink or laugh or get out of bed in the morning. You'd never love anyone, ever again. You'd never dare to. Margaret Atwood
She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation. In spirit she walks the city, traces its labyrinths, its dingy mazes: each assignation, each rendezvous, each door and stair and bed. What he said, what she said, what they did, what they did then. Even the times they argued, fought, parted, agonized, rejoined. How they’d loved to cut themselves on each other, taste their own blood. We were ruinous together, she thinks. But how else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin? . Margaret Atwood
This is how the girl who couldn't speak and the man who couldn't see fell in love. Margaret Atwood
What is it the I'll want from you? Not love: that would be too much to ask. Not forgiveness, which isn't yours to bestow. Only a listener, perhaps; only someone who will see me. Don't prettify me though, whatever else you do: I have no wish to be a decorated skull. But I leave myself in your hands. What choice do I have? By the time you read this last page, that- if anywhere- is the only place I will be. Margaret Atwood
The Eskimo has fifty-names for snow because it is important...
The Eskimo has fifty-names for snow because it is important to them there ought to be as many for love. Margaret Atwood
If I love you, is that a fact or a...
If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon? Margaret Atwood
A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that...
A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness. Margaret Atwood
Potential has a shelf life.
Potential has a shelf life. Margaret Atwood
Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time folds again. Margaret Atwood
Don't let the bastards grind you down.
Don't let the bastards grind you down. Margaret Atwood
So much for endings. Beginnings are always more fun. True connoisseurs, however, are known to favor the stretch in between, since it's the hardest to do anything with. That's about all that can be said for plots, which anyway are just one thing after another, a what and a what and a what. Margaret Atwood
I'm not senile,
I'm not senile, " I snapped. "If I burn the house down it will be on purpose. Margaret Atwood
A Paradox, the doughnut hole. Empty space, once, but now they've learned to market even that. A minus quantity; nothing, rendered edible. I wondered if they might be used-metaphorically, of course-to demonstrate the existence of God. Does naming a sphere of nothingness transmute it into being? Margaret Atwood
By now you must have guessed: I come from another planet. But I will never say to you, Take me to your leaders. Even I - unused to your ways though I am - would never make that mistake. We ourselves have such beings among us, made of cogs, pieces of paper, small disks of shiny metal, scraps of coloured cloth. I do not need to encounter more of them. Instead I will say, Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers; take me to your deaths. These are worth it. These are what I have come for. . Margaret Atwood