“This afternoon held that special quality of mournful emptiness I've connected with late Sunday afternoons ever since childhood: the feeling of having nothing to do.”
In this quote by Margaret Atwood, she describes the poignant feeling of emptiness and listlessness that often accompanies late Sunday afternoons. The use of the words "mournful emptiness" evokes a sense of sadness and despair, while the phrase "having nothing to do" speaks to the lack of purpose and productivity that can be associated with this specific time of the week. Atwood's poignant description captures the universal experience of feeling adrift and unfulfilled during moments of downtime.
In today's fast-paced world, many people still experience that familiar feeling of emptiness on late Sunday afternoons. Despite the constant busyness and distractions of modern life, the need for rest and reflection remains a universal experience. Margaret Atwood's poignant observation serves as a reminder to slow down, appreciate moments of stillness, and embrace the quiet moments that allow for self-reflection and introspection.
“This afternoon held that special quality of mournful emptiness I've connected with late Sunday afternoons ever since childhood: the feeling of having nothing to do.” - Margaret Atwood
When was the last time you experienced the feeling of having nothing to do? How do you usually fill your time when you feel this emptiness? Do you view moments of stillness and emptiness as positive or negative in your life? What do you think this feeling of mournful emptiness signifies for the speaker in the quote?
“How I would like to have them back, those pointless afternoons - the boredom, the aimlessness, the unformed possibilities.”
“A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness.”
“Cleverness is a quality a man likes to have in his wife as long as she is some distance away from him. Up close, he'll take kindness any day of the week, if there's nothing more alluring to be had.”
“Death makes me hungry. Maybe it's because I've been emptied; or maybe it's the body's way of seeing to it that I remain alive.”
“Nothing is more difficult than to understand the dead, I've found; but nothing is more dangerous than to ignore them.”
“I must admit it's a surprise to find myself still here, still talking to you. I prefer to think of it as talking, although of course it isn't: I'm saying nothing, you're hearing nothing. The only thing between us is this black line: a thread thrown onto the empty page, into the empty air.”