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Quotes about Growth

Potential has a shelf life.
— Margaret Atwood
Most mothers worry when their daughters reach adolescence but I was the opposite. I relaxed, I sighed with relief. Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life sized.
— Margaret Atwood
I tried to visualize my jealousy as a yellowy-brown cloud boiling around inside me, then going out through my nose like smoke and turning into a stone and falling down into the ground. That did work a little. But in my visualization a plant covered with poison berries would grow out of the stone, whether I wanted it to or not.
— Margaret Atwood
We were revisionists; what we revised was ourselves.
— Margaret Atwood
For years I wanted to be older, and now I am.
— Margaret Atwood
There had been something willed about it though, his ignorance. Or not willed, exactly: structured. He'd grown up in walled spaces, and then he had become one. He had shut things out.
— Margaret Atwood
Inside John, she thinks, is another John, who is much nicer. This other John will emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon, a Jack from a box, a pit from a prune, if the first John is only squeezed enough.
— Margaret Atwood
I felt confused, and also inadequate; whatever he was asking or demanding, it was beyond me. this was the first time a man would expect more from me than i was capable of giving, but it wouldn't be the last.
— Margaret Atwood
it is better to journey than to arrive, as long as we journey in firm faith and for selfless ends.
— Margaret Atwood
It is better to journey than to arrive, as long as we journey in firm faith and for selfless ends.
— Margaret Atwood
You can see it in her eyes: I am not there. But she exists, in her white dress. She grows and lives. Isn't that a good thing? A blessing? Still, I can't bear it, to have been erased like that.
— Margaret Atwood
I don't want to be left by myself in this room. The walls are too empty, there are no pictures on them nor curtains on the little high-up window, nothing to look at and so you look at the wall, and after you do that for a time, there are pictures on it after all, and red flowers growing.
— Margaret Atwood