Murderess, murderess, he whispers to himself. It has an…

“I'm fine," said Pilar, "for the moment. And the moment is the only time we can be fine in.”

— Margaret Atwood

“The more difficult it was to love the particular man beside us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting,…

— Margaret Atwood

Once you publish a book, it is out of your control. You cannot dictate how people read it.

— Margaret Atwood

“Every time the women appear, Snowman is astonished all over again. They're every known colour from the deepest black to whitest white, they're various…

— Margaret Atwood

“There is indeed something delightful about being able to combine obedience and disobedience in the same act.”

— Margaret Atwood

“Simon walks back to the house alone. The night is clear and warm, with a moon, almost full, enclosed in a nimbus of mist;…

— Margaret Atwood

All fiction is about people, unless it's about rabbits pretending to be people. It's all essentially characters in action, which means characters moving through…

— Margaret Atwood

“It's my fault. I am forgetting too much.”

— Margaret Atwood

“Back at home they drew the curtains and read, with disapproval, with relish, with avidity and glee - even the ones who'd never thought…

— Margaret Atwood

I wanted to forget the past, but it refused to forget me; it waited for sleep, then cornered me.

— Margaret Atwood

“Strange how we decorate pain. These ribbons, for instance, and the small hard teardrops of blood. Who are they for? Do we think the…

— margaret atwood

“The birds were singing around me, but I reflected that the very birds were strangers to me, for I did not even know their…

— Margaret Atwood

“Mary: Some call this "Eve's curse," but I think that is stupid because the real curse of Eve was having to put up with…

— Margaret Atwood

And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional.

— Margaret Atwood

“She knows she's deceiving herself about that, but she prefers to deceive herself. She desperately needs to believe such pure joy is still possible.”

— Margaret Atwood