“Possible, impossible. What could be done? We thought we had such problems. How were we to know we were happy?” — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“Better? I say, in a small voice. How can he think this is better? Better never means better for everyone, he says.… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“On the top of my desk there are initials, carved into the wood, and dates...This carving, done with a pencil dug many… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“I was nervous. How was I to know he loved me? It might be just an affair. Why did we ever say… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups but chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end?… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“I find the entrance to the women's washroom...There's a rest area, gently lit in pinkish tones, with several easy chairs and a… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“I have enough daily bread, so I won't waste time on that. It isn't the main problem. The problem is getting it… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
“The summer dresses are unpacked and hanging in the closet, two of them, pure cotton, which is better than synthetics like the… — Margaret Atwood Copy Share Image
