And consider: it is loss to which everything flows, absence in which everything flowers
Margaret AtwoodIf you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen nextโif you knew in advance the consequences of your own actionsโyou'd be doomed. You'd be ruined as God. You'd be a stone. You'd never eat or drink or laugh or get out of bed in the morning. You'd never love anyone, ever again. You'd never dare to.
Margaret AtwoodFor an instant she felt them, their identities, almost their substance, pass over her head like a wave. At some time she would be โ or no, already she was like that too; she was one of them, her body the same, identical, merged with that other flesh that choked the air in the flowered room with its sweet organic scent; she felt suffocated by this thick sargasso-sea of femininity.
Margaret Atwood