They seemed to be able to choose. We seemed to be able to choose then. We were a society dying of too much choice.
Margaret Atwood
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They were new money without a doubt so new it shrieked. Their clothes looked as it theyd covered themselves in glue then rolled around in hundreddollar bills.
- Margaret Atwood -
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Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until its time for you to become someone elses past time and then time folds again.
- Margaret Atwood -