The short answer to 'Why do you write' is - I suppose I write for some of the same reasons I read:… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
This is the middle of my life, I think of it as a place, like the middle of a river, the middle… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
She wasn't ready to settle down, she told her friends. That was one way of putting it. Another was would have been… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“Mouth to mouth I'm bringing you back to life. Why did you drown like that without telling? What numbed you? What rose… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
To live in prison is to live without mirrors. To live without mirrors is to live without the self. She is living… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“But in life, a tragedy is not one long scream. It includes everything that led up to it. Hour after trivial hour,… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
The prospect of his future life stretched before him like a sentence; not a prison sentence but a long-winded sentence with a… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“We dangle by a flimsy thread, Our little lives are grains of sand: The Cosmos is a tiny sphere Held in the… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
It's a lifelong failing: she has never been prepared. But how can you have a sense of wonder if you're prepared for… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“Apart from all this, I do of course have a real life. I sometimes have trouble believing in it, because it doesn't… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“I keep on going with this sad and hungry and sordid, this limping and mutilated story, because after all I want you… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
So this was the rest of his life. It felt like a party to which he'd been invited, but at an address… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“The stories the children whispered to one another - while they sat weaving their endless carpets, while they could still see -… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
This has been her problem all her life: picturing other people's responses. She's too good at it. She can picture the response… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“Already they're the objects of narrow sideways looks, as if they had something to do with it; already they've assumed the cornered,… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“She expected too much from me, I felt. She expected me to vindicate her life for her, and the choices she'd made.… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“I'm fine," said Pilar, "for the moment. And the moment is the only time we can be fine in.” — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
And yet it disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional. — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
I wanted to forget the past, but it refused to forget me; it waited for sleep, then cornered me. — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
“There is indeed something delightful about being able to combine obedience and disobedience in the same act.” — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
