Jeanette Winterson Quotes
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I am a glass man, but there is no light in me that can shine across the sea. I shall lead no one home, save no lives, not even my own.
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But not all dark places need light, I have to remember that.
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I felt as if I had blundered into someone else's life by chance, discovered I wanted to stay, then blundered back into my own, without a clue, a hint, or a way of finishing the story.
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My characters are always on the outside; the spotlight's not on them. But they do get somewhere.
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Only the impossible is worth the effort.
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I don't understand why people talk of art as a luxury when it's a mind-altering possibility.
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In the fossil record of our existence, there is no trace of love. You cannot find it held in the earth's crust, waiting to be discovered. The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts. Their last meal is sometimes preserved in peat or in ice, but their thoughts and feelings are gone.
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With animal behavior, they're all fine until you introduce some rogue element into the cage, and then they go crazy.
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I say I'm in love with her. What does that mean? It means I review my future and my past in the light of this feeling. It is though I wrote in a foreign language that I am suddenly able to read. Wordlessly, she explains me to myself. Like genius, she is ignorant of what she does.
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If we make anything that lasts, it outlives us.
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My books always begin with a sentence and an image - not necessarily connected.
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Bask in it. In spite of what the monks say, you can meet God without getting up early. You can meet God lounging in the pew. The hardship is a man-made device because man cannot exist without passion.
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Tell me a story, Pew.
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Yes I will come for you. Roll my strength into a ball for you. Throw myself across chance for you. I will be the bridge or the pulley because you are the dream.
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There are those who say that temptation can be barricaded beyond the door. The ones who think that stray desires can be driven out of the heart like the moneychangers from the temple. Maybe they can, if you patrol your weak points day and night, don't look, don't smell, don't dream.
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I'm telling you stories. Trust me.
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Somewhere between fear and sex passion is. The way there is sudden. The way out is worse.
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He's the kind of man who was born to rise and rise: a human elevator. (p.7)
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Religion is somewhere between fear and sex. And God? Truly? In his own right, without our voices speaking for him? Obsessed I think, but not passionate. (p.74)
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The body can endure compromise and the mind can be seduced by it. Only the heart protests.
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I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed.
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There are more than two chances– many more. I know now, after fifty years, that the finding/losing, forgetting/remembering, leaving/returning, never stops. The whole of life is about another chance, and while we are alive, till the very end, there is always another chance. (p.38)
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Decision, the moment of saying yes, is prompted by something deeper; recognition. I recognise you; I know you again, from a dream or another life, or perhaps even from a chance sighting in a café, years ago.
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He smiled.