It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. — Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. — Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. — Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. — Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. — Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
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It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.

— Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House
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sadness

More “Sadness” Quotes

Always remember, child... that to think bad thoughts is really the easiest thing in the world. If you leave your mind to — James Clavell, Shōgun
In a daydream I used to have, all these places were points of happiness to me; all these places were lifeboats to my sma — Jamaica Kincaid, Lucy
Ricky just listens. He isn't shocked. He isn't surprised. He listens to me because he knows. He knows the shame and the — Emily Andrews, The Finer Points of Becoming Machine
Living is like being chained at the bottom of a shallow pond with my eyes open and no air. I can see distorted images of — Katie McGarry, Dare You To
I have sometimes thought that I have been burdened with a pack of ten misfortunes, any one of which if borne by my neigh — Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human
There comes a time when something changes you... No matter the impact... Where the world no longer beats in time with yo — Solange nicole
I was sprawled out in my usual position on the couch, half asleep but entirely drunk, torturing myself by tearing memori — Jonathan Tropper, How to Talk to a Widower
Once upon a time, there was a naïve and innocent girl who thought she could tame the beast and live happily ever after. — Nenia Campbell, Terrorscape
He felt the guilt of inaction, of simply waiting while his life went to waste. No one was worth the gift of his life, no — Leonard Gardner, Fat City
One weekend it rained for 48 hours without stopping. The rain beat like bony fingers against the window panes. Tap. Tap. — Alice Jamieson, Today I'm Alice: Nine Personalities, One Tortured Mind
I felt as if something hung there in the back of my mind, waiting to tarnish whatever happiness I might find. Is it safe — Storm Constantine, The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit
Rain is a lullaby heard through a thick, isolating blanket of clouds. It is the tinkling harp of water droplets; a moist — Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway