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Maybe sadness was a kind of hunger, she thought. Maybe the two went together.

Margaret Atwood

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Margaret Atwood
Age: 85
Born: 1939
Born: November 18
Essayist
Inventor
Literary Critic
Non-Fiction Writer
Novelist
Pedagogue
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Ottawa (Ontario)
Margaret Eleanor Atwood
Hunger
Went
Maybe
Two
Thought
Together
Kind
Sadness

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I was born in the Ottawa General Hospital right after the Gray Cup Football Game in 1939. Six months later, I was backpacked into the Quebec bush. I grew up in and out of the bush, in and out of Ottawa, Sault Ste. Marie and Toronto.
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So this was the rest of his life. It felt like a party to which he'd been invited, but at an address he couldn't actually locate. Someone must be having fun at it, this life of his only, right at the moment, it wasn't him.
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There's nothing like drawing a thing to make you really see it.
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For if the world treats you well, Sir, you come to believe you are deserving of it.
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I knew what love was supposed to be: obsession with undertones of nausea.
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I don't want to look at something that determines me so completely.
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The animals have no need for speech, why talk when you are a word.
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More powerful than God, more evil than the Devil the poor have it, the rich lack it, and if you eat it you die?
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You're never going to kill storytelling, because it's built into the human plan. We come with it.
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You might 'write from the heart,' but you'd better polish with your brain.
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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.
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I’m not used to girls, or familiar with their customs. I feel awkward around them, I don’t know what to say. I know the unspoken rules of boys, but with girls I sense that I am always on the verge of some unforeseen, calamitous blunder.
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My own view of myself was that I was small and innocuous, a marshmallow compared to the others. I was a poor shot with a 22, for instance, and not very good with an ax. It took me a long time to figure out that the youngest in a family of dragons is still a dragon from the point of view of those who find dragons alarming.
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And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional.
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Some cleric putting a match to her. /Neither of them looks happy about it. /Once lit, she'll burn like a book, /like a book that was ever finished, /like a locked-up library.
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He was deciding whether to cut her throat or love her forever.
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When women let their hair down, it means either sexiness or craziness or death, the three by Victorian times having become virtually synonymous.
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Imagine a famine. Now imagine a piece of bread. Both of these things are real but you happen to be in the same room with only one of them. Put yourself into a different room, that’s what the mind is for.
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How shrunk, how dwindled, in our times Creation's mighty seed - For Man has broke the Fellowship With murder, lust, and greed.
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Your hand is a warm stone I hold between two words.
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