Quotes about Society
That which is not in the interests of the hive cannot be in the interests of the bee.
- Marcus Aurelius
Tell me, Elly Kleinman, why do men feel threatened by women?
- Margaret Atwood
None of them was willing to be a girl, he said. You can see why not. I know, right? I don't blame them, she said with a hard edge to her voice. Being a girl is the pits, trust me.
- Margaret Atwood
Better never means better for everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some.
- Margaret Atwood
He's a young man, my own age or a little older, which is young for a man although not for a woman, as at my age a woman is an old maid but a man is not an old bachelor until he's fifty, and even then there's still hope for the ladies, as Mary Whitney used to say.
- Margaret Atwood
Breasts were one thing: they were in front, where you could have some control over them. Then there were bums, which were behind, and out of sight, and thus more lawless. Apart from loosely gathered skirts, nothing much could be done about them.
- Margaret Atwood
I did not yet know that my lack of enjoyment - my distaste, my suffering even - would be considered normal and even desirable by my husband. He was one of those men who felt that if a woman did not experience sexual pleasure this was all to the good, because then she would not be liable to wander off seeking it elsewhere.
- Margaret Atwood
In this country you can say what you like because no one will listen to you anyway.
- Margaret Atwood
Human society, they claimed, was a sort of monster, its main by-products being corpses and rubble.
- Margaret Atwood
All those paintings of women, in art galleries, surprised at private moments. Nymph Sleeping. Susanna and the Elders. Woman bathing, one foot in a tin tub - Renoir, or was it Degas? both, both women plump. Diana and her maidens, a moment before they catch the hunter's prying eyes. Never any paintings called Man Washing Socks in Sink.)
- Margaret Atwood
Maybe all women should be robots, he thinks with a tinge of acid: the flesh-and-blood ones are out of control.
- Margaret Atwood
What will Ofwarren give birth to? A baby, as we all hope? Or something else, an Unbaby, with a pinhead or a snout like a dog's, or two bodies, or a hole in its heart or no arms, or webbed hands and feet? There's no telling. They could tell once, with machines, but that is now outlawed. What would be the point of knowing, anyway? You can't have them taken out; whatever it is must be carried to term.
- Margaret Atwood