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I am a writer who happens to love women. I am not a lesbian who happens to write.
Jeanette Winterson
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Jeanette Winterson
Age: 67
Born: 1957
Born: August 27
Author
Film Producer
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
Manchester
England
Writing
Love
Lesbian
Writer
Write
Happens
Women
More quotes by Jeanette Winterson
I didn’t want to tell the story of myself, but someone I called myself. If you read yourself as fiction, it’s rather more liberating than reading yourself as fact.
Jeanette Winterson
Their throats were bare for God.
Jeanette Winterson
No emotion is the final one.
Jeanette Winterson
Time that withers you will wither me. We will fall like ripe fruit and roll down the grass together. Dear friend, let me lie beside you watching the clouds until the earth covers us and we are gone.
Jeanette Winterson
Cheating is easy. There's no swank to infidelity. To borrow against the trust someone has placed in you costs nothing at first. You get away with it, you take a little more and a little more until there is no more to draw on. Oddly, your hands should be full with all that taking but when you open them there's nothing there.
Jeanette Winterson
The future is foretold from the past and the future is only possible because of the past. Without past and future, the present is partial. All time is eternally present and so all time is ours. There is no sense in forgetting and every sense in dreaming. Thus the present is made rich.
Jeanette Winterson
When she bleeds the smells I know change colour. There is iron in her soul on those days. She smells like a gun.
Jeanette Winterson
It's great to win a few prizes early on. It helps a writer to get noticed and to get some sales. It can also be a pain in the arse because it gets in the way of the quiet, contemplative time every writer needs, but which is particularly important when you are a new writer finding your own voice, and pursuing the things that interest you.
Jeanette Winterson
The universe has no sides, no end, can't be mapped. Enough to make a man talk about God, make a man superstitious and worship an idol. The science never gets as far as the strangeness.
Jeanette Winterson
I dreamed I was a single moment in a single day. A note struck and vanished. A sounding. A reckoning. Gone.
Jeanette Winterson
And you? Now that I have discovered you? Beautiful, dangerous, unleashed. Still I try to hold you, knowing that your body is faced with knives.
Jeanette Winterson
Knowing that books are something that is hidden, that almost has that alchemical quality to it. There is a secret society in here, and if you belong to it, you'll be able to transform your lead into gold. I have that rather magical sense about books - that they do, somehow, have special powers.
Jeanette Winterson
It may be that there was no reason or purpose, for mankind must always be finding reasons where there are none, and comfort in a purpose that hardly exists.
Jeanette Winterson
Trust your creativity.
Jeanette Winterson
Fragile creatures of a small blue planet, surrounded by light years of silent space.
Jeanette Winterson
People being encouraged to make up their own minds and think for themselves is so important. This world talks endlessly about freedom of choice, but we've never been [nothing] more than a nation of robots. Everybody is seduced by corporate culture.
Jeanette Winterson
I feel in colour, strong tones that I hue down for the comfort of the pastelly inclined. Beige and magnolia and a hint of pink are what the well-decorated heart is wearing who wants my blood red and vein-blue?
Jeanette Winterson
I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don't have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you.
Jeanette Winterson
I hate the word lesbian it tells you nothing its only purpose is to inflame.
Jeanette Winterson
unhappy families are conspiracies of silence. The one who breaks the silence is never forgiven.
Jeanette Winterson
