Love, they say, enslaves and passion is a demon and many have been lost for love. i know this is true, but I know too that without love we grope in the tunnels of our lives and never see the sun.
Jeanette WintersonLie beside me. Let me see the division of your pores. Let me see the web of scars made by your family's claws and you their furniture. Let me see the wounds that they denied. The battle ground of family life that has been your body. Let me see the bruised red lines that signal their encampment. Let me see the routed place where they are gone. Lie beside me and let the seeing be healing. No need to hide. No need for either darkness or light. Let me see you as you are.
Jeanette WintersonWhen you follow a star you know you will never reach that star; rather it will guide you to where you want to go. ... So it is with the world. It will only ever lead you back to yourself.
Jeanette WintersonMots clés life navigation
I knew clearly that I could not rebuild my life or put it back together in any way. I had no idea what might lie on the other side of this place. I only knew that the before-world was gone forever.
Jeanette WintersonI can't believe that we have reached the end of everything. The red dust is frightening. The carbon dioxide is real. Water is expensive. Bio-tech has created as many problems as it has fixed, but we're here, we're alive, we're the human race, we have survived wars and terrorism and scarcity and global famine, and we have made it back from the brink, not once but many times. History is not a suicide note - it's a record of our survival.
Jeanette WintersonMots clés inspirational humanity survival apocalypse
Reading yourself as a fiction as well as a fact is the only way to keep the narrative open - the only way to stop the story from running away under its own momentum, often towards an ending no one wants.
Jeanette WintersonMots clés life reading books stories fiction end
Children do not find fault with their parents until later. In the beginning, the love you get is the love that sets.
Jeanette WintersonMots clés love family parents children faults
I may be cynical when I say that very rarely is the beloved more than a shaping spirit for the lover's dreams.
Jeanette Winterson…when the dying sun bled the blue sky orange.
Jeanette WintersonI have written about love obsessively, forensically, and I know/knew it as the highest value. I loved God of course, in the early days, and God loved me. That was something. And I loved animals and nature. And poetry. People were the problem. How do you love another person? How do you trust another person to love you?
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