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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
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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
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Watching
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Friend
Ripe
Gone
Beside
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Roll
Fall
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Earth
Clouds
Together
Fruit
Withers
Time
Dear
Wither
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Myths hook and bind the mind because at the same time they set the mind free: they explain the universe while allowing the universe to go on being unexplained and we seem to need this even now, in our twentieth-century grandeur.
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Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it.
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Happy Valentines Day to those who have found love, in whatever shape or form, and to those who are still hunting, don't give up. If you feel bad, send yourself a card. You must be worth it.
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I think of love as a force of nature-as strog as the sun, as necessary, as impersonal, as gigantic, as impossible, as scorching as it is warming,as drought-making as it is life-giving.
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Destiny is a worrying concept. I don't want to be fated, I want to choose.
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Why did I walk so purposefully in a straight line? Where would it take me? He went round and round and we got there all the same.
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Creative work is incredibly difficult, and that is where the tests lie. Ordinary professionalism and twenty years' experience can accomplish a lot, but it can't access the hidden places. That still needs what it always needs - a condition of complete simplicity, costing not less than everything.
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The tamer my love, the farther away it is from love. In fierceness, in heat, in longing, in risk, I find something of love's nature. In my desire for you, I burn at the right temperature to walk through love's fire. So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you calmly is not to love you at all.
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I had huge ambition for literature. I don't see the point of doing anything if you don't have ambition for it.
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Our own front door can be a wonderful thing, or a sight we dread rarely is it only a door.
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She was fragile, gentle, wide awake in a sleeping world.
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