Quotes from Margaret Atwood

call attention of course to the breasts. Some of these women have been within inches of getting Ed to put his head down on their chests, right there in Sally's living room. Watching all this out of the corners of her eyes while serving the liqueurs, Sally feels the Aztec rise within her. Trouble with your heart? Get it removed, she thinks. Then you'll have no more problems.

A man is just a woman's strategy for making other women.

Maybe it's about who can do what to whom and be forgiven for it. Never tell me it amounts to the same thing.

But we lived as usual. Everyone does, most of the time.

How furious she must be, now that she's been taken at her word.

How easy it is to invent humanity, for anyone at all. What an available temptation.

You must observe the risings of the Sun and the changings of the Moon, because to everything there is a season.

The aliens arrive. We like the part where we get saved. We like the part where we get destroyed. Why do those feel so similar? Either way, it's an end.

There were places you didn't want to walk, precautions you took that had to do with locks on windows and doors, drawing the curtains, leaving on lights. These things you did were like prayers; you did them and you hoped they would save you. And for the most part they did. Or something did; you could tell by the fact that you were still alive. But all of that was pertinent only in the night, and had nothing to do with the man you loved, at least in daylight.

I admit I relish it, this lick of dissipation.

Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you'd be boiled to death before you knew it.

If it hurts and you feel sick and it's making you ugly, take this, from HelthWyzer; if you're ugly and it hurts and you feel sick about it, take that, from AnooYoo.