The Handmaid's Tale

by Margaret Atwood

Something could be exchanged, we thought, some deal made, some tradeoff, we still had our bodies. That was our fantasy.

There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia. Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from. Don’t underrate it.

We were the people who were not in the papers. We lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. It gave us more freedom. We lived in the gaps between the stories.

I’ll obliterate myself, if that’s what you really want; I’ll empty myself, truly, become a chalice.

But I feel serene, at peace, pervaded with indifference. Don’t let the bastards grind you down. I repeat this to myself but it conveys nothing. You might as well say, Don’t let there be air; or, Don’t be.

the world is full of weapons if you’re looking for them. I should have paid attention.