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 AtwoodAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer, Poet
- Nationality: canadian
- Born: November 18, 1939
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Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect. My love should kindle to inflamed respect. Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy. Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though...
William Shakespeare