The Testaments (The Handmaid's Tale, #2)

by Margaret Atwood

You don’t believe the sky is falling until a chunk of it falls on you.

Wedlock: it had a dull metallic sound, like an iron door clicking shut.

Being able to read and write did not provide the answers to all questions. It led to other questions, and then to others.

Still, I wanted to believe; indeed I longed to; and, in the end, how much of belief comes from longing?