Oryx and Crake (MaddAddam, #1)

by Margaret Atwood

“It is the strict adherence to daily routine that tends towards the maintenance of good morale and the preservation of sanity,”

“Oh, never mind,” said his mother. She often tried to explain things to him; then she got discouraged. These were the worst moments, for both of them.

He resisted her, he pretended he didn’t understand even when he did,

but he didn’t want her to give up on him. He wanted her to be brave, to try her best with him, to hammer away at the wall he’d p...

Such a dumb concept. Old enough for what? To drink, to fuck, to know better?

What fathead was in charge of

making those decisions? For example, Snowman himself isn’t old enough for this, this – what can it be called? This situation. He’ll never be old ...

He liked it when she did that – when she seemed to be enjoying herself. She was friendly then, too. She was like a real mother and he was like a real child. But those moods of hers didn’t last long.

He’s a grown-up now, with much worse things on his conscience. So who is he to blame them? (He blames them.)

There’s something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you’re still alive.

trailer parks, and wondered what it was like to live in one of them: just thinking about it made him slightly dizzy, as he imagined a desert might, or the sea. Everything in the pleeblands seemed so boundless, so porous, so penetrable, so wide-open. So subject to chance.

Some exotic splice: in a few years they’ll be overwhelmed. Or else they’ll spread, make inroads, choke out the native plants. Who can tell which? The whole world is now one vast uncontrolled experiment – the way it always was, Crake would have said – and the doctrine of unintended consequences is in full spate.

Nobody wanted to be sexless, but nobody wanted to be nothing but sex, Crake said once. Oh yes siree, thought Jimmy. Another human conundrum.