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Tell me a story, Pew. What kind of story, child? A story with a happy ending. There’s no such thing in all the world. As a happy ending? As an ending.
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
Kind
Ending
World
Child
Story
Happy
Tell
Stories
Children
Thing
More quotes by Jeanette Winterson
Trust me, I'm telling you stories.
Jeanette Winterson
Your weak point is the open, vulnerable place where you can always be hurt. Love, in all its aspects, opens the self so fully.
Jeanette Winterson
Sometimes I think of you and I feel giddy. Memory makes me lightheaded, drunk on champagne. All the things we did. And if anyone has said this was the price I would have agreed to pay it. That surprises me that with the hurt and the mess comes a shift of recognition. It was worth it. Love is worth it.
Jeanette Winterson
Reading things that are relevant to the facts of your life is of limited value. The facts are, after all, only the facts, and the yearning passionate part of you will not be met there. That is why reading ourselves as a fiction as well as fact is so liberating. The wider we read the freer we become.
Jeanette Winterson
I think of myself in a continuum as a woman. Two hundred years ago, it would have been very difficult for me to write at all.
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
Her butler opened it for her. His name was Boredom. She said, 'Boredom, fetch me a plaything.' He said 'Very good ma'am,' and putting on his white gloves so that fingerprints would not show he tapped at my heart and I thought he said his name was Love.
Jeanette Winterson
I believe in communication books communicate ideas and make bridges between people.
Jeanette Winterson
There are voices and they must be heard.
Jeanette Winterson
Only a fool tries to reconstruct a bunch of grapes from a bottle of wine.
Jeanette Winterson
If art, all art, is concerned with truth, then a society in denial will not find much use for it.
Jeanette Winterson
When a woman gives birth her waters break and she pours out the child and the child runs free.
Jeanette Winterson
I like being on my own better than I like anything else, but I can't give up love. Maybe it's the tension between longing and aloneness that I need. My own funicular railway, holding in balance the two things most likely to destroy me.
Jeanette Winterson
That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn't a hiding place. It is a finding place.
Jeanette Winterson
It's the cliches that cause the trouble. A precise emotion seeks a precise expression.
Jeanette Winterson
I need to be able to hear what is being said to me by the voices I create. Just on the other side of creativity is the nuthouse - and I often notice people looking at me strangely when I am talking out loud, but there is no other way.
Jeanette Winterson
Great control and great discipline are necessary when you reach your own editing stage of the book, but in the early stages you have to be prepared to let anything happen and to get it wrong or go off track. The development of a character is not smooth or simple - it is as tricky as meeting someone new whom you would like to know better.
Jeanette Winterson
Art is a foreign city, and we deceive ourselves when we think it familiar. We have to recognize that the language of art, all art, is not our mother tongue.
Jeanette Winterson
In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire that mocks the sun. This place will warm me, feed me and care for me. I will hold on to this pulse against other rhythms. The world will come and go in the tide of a day but here is her hand with my future in its palm.
Jeanette Winterson
