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I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.

Jenny Downham

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Jenny Downham
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: January 1
Actor
Author
Film Actor
Novelist
Writer
Inner and Outer London
Wish
Coat
Film
Wardrobe
Beautiful
Coats
Wanted
Boyfriend
Look
Whenever
Looks
Films
Way
Lived
Hanger
Boys
Hangers

More quotes by Jenny Downham

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Life is made up of a series of moments, each one a journey to the end.
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I said I wouldn't leave her.
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When I first saw Ellie, I knew it was her-- she was my fantasy. I didn't want it to be true, but every time I met her it was obvious, and the funny thing was that she was better than the fantasy, like I got more stuff than I'd imagined.
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. . . my bones they'll burn or bury. It'll be my death.
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It's a shame i can't be there myself - i like parties. Text me if you think of any good hymns!
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a little bird moves a mountain of sand one grain at a time it picks up one grain every million years and when the mountain has been moved the bird puts it all back again and that's how long eternity is and that's a very long time to be dead
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If I learnt anything at all about terminal illness in my research, it's that the experience is different for everyone. I do believe that life becomes concentrated when it's boundaried and that death is the biggest boundary of all.
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She needed food. Diets didn't count in a crisis.
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Don't pretend to care. I don't need you as an anesthetic.
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No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.
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Keep breathing. Just keep doing it. It's easy. In and out.
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Perhaps I'm dead. Perhaps this is all it will be. The living will carry on in their world – touching, walking. And I'll continue in this empty world, tapping soundlessly on the glass between us.
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Is this how it is for everyone?' she whispered. 'No.' 'How do you know?' 'I just do. I've never felt this with anyone before.' 'Serious?' 'Serious. That isn't a line.' 'Kiss me,' she said. He did. Everywhere.
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Moments. All gathering towards this one.
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I miss him as soon as he goes. When he isn't with me, I think I made him up.
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Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear.
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The inside of the door is glossy white. A total re-paint. I touch it with my fingers, but it stays the same. It's so bright it makes the room waver at the edges. Every few years we disappear.
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I didn't understand that when you make love, you actually do MAKE love. Stir things. Affect each other. The breath that escapes from me is dazzled. He breathes it in with a gasp.
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Her skin tasted expensive.
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Are you afraid, Tessa?
Jenny Downham