Quote

I walked out to brood on this life of ours, which seems from birth to death to be a steady loss, disguised by sudden gains and happiness, which persuade us of good fortune, when all the while the glass is emptying.

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
Happiness
Sudden
Death
Steady
Seems
Glass
Good
Glasses
Emptying
Life
Gains
Brood
Fortune
Disguised
Birth
Persuade
Loss
Walked

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I didn't mind being unpopular at school, because everyone else was a heathen.
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Darkness as well as light. Or do I mean darkness, another kind of light? Lucifer would say so, and I have a weakness for fallen angels.
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She was fragile, gentle, wide awake in a sleeping world.
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You have to engage with people who are different from you and try to work with their thinking and their mind. That's a real challenge.
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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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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.
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Islands are metaphors of the heart, no matter what poet says otherwise.
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Misery pulls away the brackets of life leaving you to free fall.
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I don't own my emotions unless I can think about them. I am not afraid of feeling but I am afraid of feeling unthinkingly. I don't want to drown. My head is my heart's lifebelt.
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Yes, the stories are dangerous, she was right. A book is a magic carpet that flies you off elsewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?
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Know thyself,’ said Socrates. Know thyself,’ said Sappho, ‘and make sure that the Church never finds out.
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Trust your creativity.
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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.
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The rebellion of art is a daily rebellion against the state of living death routinely called real life.
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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.
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As a writer, if you're prepared to work from your own wound, you're allowing people into the most vulnerable parts of yourself.
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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.
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What are you that makes me feel thus? Who are you for whom time has no meaning?
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He doubted her. You must never doubt the one you love. But they might not be telling the truth. Never mind that. You tell them the truth. What do you mean? You can't be another person's honesty, child, but you can be your own. So what should I say? When? When I love someone? You should say it.
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