I'm not sure I really am a Humanist. I describe myself as a rigorous agnostic, which means that you cannot declare as a matter of material truth something that is in fact a matter of spiritual belief. Margaret Atwood More Quotes by Margaret Atwood More Quotes From Margaret Atwood What else can I do? Once you've gone this far you aren't fit for anything else. Something happens to your mind. You're overqualified, overspecialized, and everybody knows it. Nobody in any other game would be crazy enough to hire me. I wouldn't even make a good ditch-digger, I'd start tearing apart the sewer-system, trying to pick-axe and unearth all those chthonic symbols - pipes, valves, cloacal conduits... No, no. I'll have to be a slave in the paper-mines for all time. Margaret Atwood crazy games mind I tell, therefore you are. Margaret Atwood The moment of betrayal is the worst, the moment when you know beyond any doubt that you've been betrayed: that some other human being has wished you that much evil Margaret Atwood betrayal doubt evil After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? Because it is. Margaret Atwood stills beautiful world ... Remember that forgiveness too is a power. To beg for it is a power, and to withold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest. Margaret Atwood remember Maybe sadness was a kind of hunger, she thought. Maybe the two went together. Margaret Atwood sadness together two There is never only one, of anyone Margaret Atwood Human understanding is fallible, and we see through a glass, darkly. Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God. Margaret Atwood shadow glasses understanding Nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, as anyone knows who has tasted both. Margaret Atwood nevertheless water blood Because you are never here but always there, I forget not you but what you look like You drift down the street in the rain, your face dissolving, changing shape, the colours running together My walls absorb you, breathe you forth again, you resume yourself, I do not recognize you You rest on the bed watching me watching you, we will never know each other any better than we do now Margaret Atwood wall rain running We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. Margaret Atwood lifeboats sharks has-beens These things you did were like prayers; you did them and you hoped they would save you. And for the most part they did. Or something did; you could tell by the fact that you were still alive. Margaret Atwood alive prayer facts She had no images of this love. She could offer no anecdotes. It was a belief rather than a memory. Margaret Atwood anecdotes belief memories Immortality,' said Crake, ' is a concept. If you take 'mortality' as being, not death, but the foreknowledge of it and the fear of it, then 'immortality' is the absence of such fear. Babies are immortal. Edit out the fear, and you'll be. Margaret Atwood immortality absence baby I'm working on my own life story. I don't mean I'm putting it together; no, I'm taking it apart. If you'd wanted the narrative line you should have asked earlier, when I still knew everything and was more than willing to tell. That was before I discovered the virtues of scissors, the virtues of matches. Margaret Atwood should-have together mean So that’s what art is, for the artist,” said Crake. “An empty drainpipe. An amplifier. A stab at getting laid. Margaret Atwood empty said art I’m not used to girls, or familiar with their customs. I feel awkward around them, I don’t know what to say. I know the unspoken rules of boys, but with girls I sense that I am always on the verge of some unforeseen, calamitous blunder. Margaret Atwood awkward girl boys So Crake never remembered his dreams. It's Snowman that remembers them instead. Worse than remembers: he's immersed in them, he'd wading through them, he's stuck in them. Every moment he's lived in the past few months was dreamed first by Crake. No wonder Crake screamed so much. Margaret Atwood months dream past We've learned to see the world in gasps. Margaret Atwood world Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering Mine!Mine! Margaret Atwood clutch familiar heart
