The Discerning Eye

posted 2004.03.26 at 02:12 by solios

(courtesy of Jolie)

"My hair is coming out from under my cap. Red hair of an ogre. A wild beast, the newspaper said. A monster. When they come with my dinner I will put the slop bucket over my head and hide behind the door, and that will give them a fright. If they want the monster so badly they ought to be provided with one. I never do such things however. I only consider them. If I did them, they would be sure I had gone mad again. Gone mad is what they say, and sometimes run mad, as if mad is a direction, like west; as if mad is a different house you could step into, or a seperate country entirely. But when you go mad you don't go to any other place, you stay where you are. And somebody else comes in. "

Alias Grace
Margaret Atwood