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"What is it the I'll want from you? Not love: that would be too much to ask. Not forgiveness, which isn't yours to bestow. Only a listener, perhaps; only someone who will see me. Don't prettify me though, whatever else you do: I have no wish to be a decorated skull. But I leave myself in your hands. What choice do I have? By the time you read this last page, that- if anywhere- is the only place I will be."
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Exlpore more Reflection quotes
"Solitude is a wonderful treasure the world is still yet to discover."
"If you don't monitor your life, you will regret it. If you don't measure your life, you will regret it."
"Always ask yourself what you have achieved within a given time and the product of your life."
"Neglect is a major reason for some of the most painful experiences we suffer in life."
"Society has got a lot of activities and attractions to steal your time and to make you think less about your diminishing life."
"It's a pity that majority of people on earth are either not measuring their lives at all or are measuring their lives by just one product a year."
"The question "who am I" is the first question that every person should ask himself."
"The past could be jettisoned . . . but seeds got carried."
"The principles you pursue becomes a worth when it reflects."
"That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love."
Explore more quotes by Margaret Atwood
"Perhaps they were looking for passion; perhaps they delved into this book as into a mysterious parcel - a gift box at the bottom of which, hidden in layers of rustling tissue paper, lay something they'd always longed for but couldn't ever grasp."
"And then she began to cry, and when I asked her why she was doing that, she said it was because I was to have a happy ending, and it was just like a book; and I wondered what books she'd been reading."
"Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon..."
"All you have to do, I tell myself, is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard."
"Men and women tried each other on, casually, like suits, rejecting whatever did not fit."
"Writers are much better behaved nowadays, for a couple of reasons. Once upon a time nobody was thinking of a career, unless you lived in New York, so there wasn't as much pressure to present a respectable exterior. And secondly, there was no social media. So if you were found face down on the floor - people did do that quite a bit; usually men, but not always - or fell through plate glass windows or got into scrapes, it became a rumour, and rumours are hard to pin down."
"I was taking something away from her, although she didn't know it. I was filching. Never mind that it was something she apparently didn't want or had no use for, had rejected even; still, it was hers, and if I took it away, this mysterious "it" I couldn't quite define."
"I sink down into my body as into a swamp, fenland, where only I know the footing. I'm a cloud, congealed around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent wrapping. Inside it is a space, huge as the sky at night and dark and curved like that, though black-red rather than black."
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