1,705 Quotes by Margaret Atwood

I’m a fool, to confuse this with goodness. I am not good. I know too much to be good. I know myself. I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly.

It’s evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.

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.

But also I’m hungry. This is monstrous, but nevertheless it’s true. Death makes me hungry. Maybe it’s because I’ve been emptied; or maybe it’s the body’s way of seeing to it that I remain alive, continue to repeat its bedrock prayer: I am, I am. I am, still. I want to go to bed, make love, right now. I think of the word relish. I could eat a horse.

Whoever said that light was life and darkness nothing? For some of us mythologies are different.

Speculative fiction encompasses that which we could actually do. Sci-fi is that which we’re probably not going to see.

I was sand, I was snow – written on, rewritten, smoothed over.

Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence.

Don’t eat anything you aren’t prepared to kill. Don’t kill anything you aren’t prepared to eat.