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"She's just jealous, people say, as if jealousy is something minor. But it's not, it's the worst, it's the worst feeling there is - incoherent and confused and shameful, and at the same time self-righteous and focused and hard as glass, like a view through a telescope. A feeling of total concentration, but total powerlessness."
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"Causes for attachment are created at the very time abhorrence occurs. Familiarity (acquaintance) up to a certain point will result in attachment and if it reaches 'ridge point' & goes past further, it will result in abhorrence."
"Jealousy is love in competition."
"Belikov is a sick, evil man who should be thrown into a pit of rabid vipers for the great offense he commited against you this morning.""Thank you." I said primly. Then, I considered. "Can vipers be rabid?""I don't see why not. Everything can be. I think. Canadian geese might be worse than vipers, though.""Canadian geese are deadlier than vipers?""You ever try to feed those little bastards? They're vicious. You get thrown to vipers, you die quickly. But the geese? That'll go on for days. More suffering.""Wow. I don't know whether I should be impressed or frightened that you've thought about all of this."
"You want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you're wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don't seem to care..."
"I realised I got anxious because my true aspiration wasn't to become the chief of a multi-billion dollar, multi-national company that created widgets or some shit."
Explore more quotes by Margaret Atwood
"All you have to do, I tell myself, is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard."
"For me the experience of writing is really an experience of losing control. I think it's very much like dreaming or like surfing. You go out there and wait for a wave, and when it comes it takes you somewhere and you don't know where it'll go."
"Better not to invent her in her absence. Better to wait until she's actually here. Then he can make her up as she goes along."
"How did the war creep up? How did it gather itself together? What was it made from? What secrets, lies, betrayals? What loves and hatreds? What sums of money, what metals?"
"Could it be he was feeling a certain nostalgia for the war, despite its stench and meaningless carnage? For that questionless life of instinct?"
"Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck."
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