Quote

Six books… my mother didn’t want books falling into my hands. It never occurred to her that I fell into the books – that I put myself inside them for safe keeping.

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
Books
Fall
Occurred
Mother
Fell
Didn
Falling
Hands
Keeping
Book
Six
Never
Safe
Inside

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She was a monster, but she was my monster.
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I didn't mind being unpopular at school, because everyone else was a heathen.
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The stories we sit up late to hear are love stories. It seems that we cannot know enough about this riddle of our lives. We go back and back to the same scenes, the same words, trying to scrape out the meaning. Nothing could be more familiar than love. Nothing else eludes us so completely.
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It may be that you are settled in another place it may be that you are happy but the one who took your heart wields final power.
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I don't read reviews because by then it's too late - whatever anyone says, the book won't change. It is written.
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I think men can really get in the way when you are trying to sort your life out and get on with it. Because they just take up so much space. I'm not under any illusions that I could have been where I am now in literary terms if I had been heterosexual. I really believe I would not be.
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What I want does exist if I dare to find it.
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I’m not club-able, you see. I don’t like literary parties and literary gatherings and literary identities. I’d hate to join anything, however loosely.
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You don't get over it because 'it' is the person you loved.
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She must find a boat and sail in it. No guarantee of shore. Only a conviction that what she wanted could exist, if she dared to find it.
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Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be.
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I dream of flight, not to be as the angels are, but to rise above the smallness of it all. The smallnesss that I am. Against the daily death the iconography of wings.
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They believed that if a mouse found your hair clippings and built a nest with them you got a headache. If the nest was big enough, you might go mad.
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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.
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The only selfish life is a timid one.
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No emotion is the final one.
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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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Trust your creativity.
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There is no greater grief than to find no happiness, but happiness in what is past.
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unhappy families are conspiracies of silence. The one who breaks the silence is never forgiven.
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