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Margaret Atwood

"Setting fire to the roofs, getting away with the loot, suiting herself. She studied modern philosophy, read Sartre on the side, smoked Gitanes, and cultivated a look of bored contempt. But inwardly, she was seething with unfocused excitement, and looking for someone to worship."

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"Setting fire to the roofs, getting away with the loot, suiting herself. She studied modern philosophy, read Sartre on the side, smoked Gitanes, and cultivated a look of bored contempt. But inwardly, she was seething with unfocused excitement, and looking for someone to worship."

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Amber Hurdle

"She liked getting hold of some book... and keeping it to herself, and gnawing its contents in privacy, and pondering the meaning without sharing her thoughts with any one, or having to decide whether the book was a good one or a bad one."

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Amber Hurdle

"Dream your dream; and realize that you are more than just the dreamer, you are the point of origin for its reality."

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Amber Hurdle

"We are all worms but I do believe that I am a glow-worm."

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Amber Hurdle

"She can't help it,' he said. 'She's got the soul of a poet and the emotional makeup of a junkyard dog."

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Amber Hurdle

"Songs of myselfI am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into new tongue. I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,.."

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Amber Hurdle

"Who would you impress if the world was blind?"

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Amber Hurdle

"Call me Richard. That's my real name. Call me that."

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Amber Hurdle

"Either way, you were connected. By your desires. By your defiance. By the simple, complicated fact of who you were."

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Amber Hurdle

"I have a dark soul, that doesn't mean I don't love the sun, rainbows and things that emphasize the light."

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Amber Hurdle

"Dreaming and loving and screwing. None of these are identities. Maybe when other people look at us, but not to ourselves. We are so much more complicated than that."

Explore more quotes by Margaret Atwood

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Margaret Atwood
"Heroes need monsters to establish their heroic credentials. You need something scary to overcome."
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Margaret Atwood
"Suddenly revenge is so close he can actually taste it. It tastes like steak, rare."
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Margaret Atwood
"No mother is ever, completely, a child's idea of what a mother should be, and I suppose it works the other way around as well. But despite everything, we didn't do too badly by one another, we did as well as most."
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Margaret Atwood
"Night falls. Or has fallen. 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, like a black sun behind cloud cover. Like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city. Maybe night falls because it's heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes. Wool blanket."
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Margaret Atwood
"I hope that people will finally come to realize that there is only one 'race' - the human race - and that we are all members of it."
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Margaret Atwood
"She would roll up her sleeves and dispense with sentimentality, and do whatever blood-soaked, bad-smelling thing had to be done. She would become adept with axes."
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Margaret Atwood
"Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized."
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Margaret Atwood
"They spent the first three years of school getting you to pretend stuff and then the rest of it marking you down if you did the same thing."
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Margaret Atwood
"Walking was not fast enough so we ran. Running was not fast enough, so we galloped. Galloping was not fast enough, so we sailed. Sailing was not fast enough, so we rolled merrily along on long metal tracks. Long metal tracks were not fast enough, so we drove. Driving was not fast enough, so we flew.Flying isn't fast enough, not fast enough for us. We want to get there faster. Get where? Wherever we are not. But a human soul can go only as fast as a man can walk, they used to say. In that case, where are all the souls? Left behind. They wander here and there, slowly, dim lights flickering in the marshes at night, looking for us. But they're not nearly fast enough, not for us, we're way ahead of them, they'll never catch up. That's why we can go so fast: our souls don't weigh us down."
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Margaret Atwood
"Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently."
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