Quote

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.

Jenny Downham

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TAGS & TOPICS

Jenny Downham
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: January 1
Actor
Author
Film Actor
Novelist
Writer
Inner and Outer London
Inside
Disappear
White
Fingers
Makes
Touch
Waver
Every
Paint
Glossy
Years
Door
Stays
Doors
Bright
Room
Edges
Rooms
Total

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We make patterns, we share moments.
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No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.
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I lean back on the pillows and look at the corners of the room. When I was a kid, I always wanted to live on the ceiling - it looked so clean and uncluttered, like the top of a cake.
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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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I want you to be with me in the dark. To hold me. To keep loving me. To help me when I get scared. To come right to the edge and see what's there.
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Don't think you have to be good because you're the only one left. Be as bad as you like.
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As an actor I worked for seven years with a community theater company based in London. We used improvisation techniques to take stories to young people who wouldn't normally have access to them - in prisons, hospitals, young offender's units, youth clubs and housing estates.
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Maybe I’ll come back as somebody else. I’ll be the wild-haired girl Adam meets in his first week at university. ‘Hi, are you on the horticultural course as well?
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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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I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.
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Statement: A girl and a boy jump into a river. The boy swims over to the girl and says, God, it's cold. Question: What's the probability they will kiss?
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Keep breathing. Just keep doing it. It's easy. In and out.
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Adam strokes my head, my face, he kisses my tears. We are blessed. Let them all go. The sound of a bird flying low across the garden. Then nothing. Nothing. A cloud passes. Nothing again. Light falls through the window, falls onto me, into me. Moments. All gathering towards this one.
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I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.
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Don't pretend to care. I don't need you as an anesthetic.
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Parents don't know their children at all. No one knows anyone, in fact.
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I made a fatal error thinking he could save me.
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Every breath, every heartbeat, was one less until maybe things stopped hurting this much.
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Hold my hand. Don't let go.
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