"It had helped to keep her sane, that writing. Then, when time had begun again and real people had entered it, she'd abandoned it here. Now it's a whisper from the past."
Atwood uses this idea of writing as a consistent reference point in the book. She equates writing with good therapy. It's as if the written word is a part of the writer's soul which was too much bear and must be externalized for the time being.
"But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you've had a little, you start shaking if you don't get more."
This is Atwood's explanation for the spread of violence after the disaster. These people are more than victims of tragedy. Having once gotten a taste for unhindered violence in the arena, they could not stop asking for more, like an addiction. Soon they are consumed by their need to inflict pain on others, devoid of remorse. They've re-wired their brains.
"Why is it always such a surprise? thinks Toby. The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush."
Toby is a perceptive guy. He believes in the unspeakable wonder of things, continually taken aback by nature's beauty. Although he has few resources, he counts the sight of the moon or any comparable pleasure as a gift which renews his hope.
"What is a scar, Oh Toby? That would be the next question. Then she'd have to explain what a scar is. A scar is like writing on your body. It tells about something that once happened to you, such as a cut on your skin where blood came out."
What a strange world these young people find themselves in. Here Ren is needing to explain what scars mean to Toby. She carries her scars internally, as markers of past lives. Again, Atwood compares the written word to some innate part of Ren.