Explore me,' you said and I collected my ropes, flasks and maps, expecting to be back home soon. I dropped into the mass of you and I cannot find the way out. Sometimes I think I’m free, coughed up like Jonah from the whale, but then I turn a corner and recognise myself again. Myself in your skin, myself lodged in your bones, myself floating in the cavities that decorate every surgeon’s wall. That is how I know you. You are what I know.
Jeanette WintersonI realised something important: whatever is on the outside can be taken away at any time. Only what is inside you is safe.
Jeanette WintersonAs it is, I can't settle, I want someone who is fierce and will love me until death and know that love is as strong as death, and be on my side for ever and ever. I want someone who will destroy and be destroyed by me. There are many forms of love and affection, some people spend their whole lives together without knowing each other's names. Naming is a difficult and time-consuming process; it concerns essences, and it means power. But on the wild nights who can you call home? Only the one who knows your name.
Jeanette WintersonI miss God. I miss the company of someone utterly loyal. I still don't think of God as my betrayer. The servants of God, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. I miss God who was my friend. I don't even know if God exists, but I do know that if God is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it.
Jeanette WintersonIt's why I am a writer...To avoid the narrow mesh of Mrs Winterson's story I had to be able to tell my own.
Jeanette WintersonTo avoid discovery I stay on the run.
To discover things for myself, I stay on the run...
And so, from the first, we separated our pleasure. She lay on the rug and I lay at right angles to her so that only our lips might meet. Kissing in this way is the strangest of distractions. The greedy body that clamors for satisfaction is forced to content itself with a single sensation and, just as the blind hear more acutely and the deaf can feel the grass grow, so the mouth becomes the focus of love and all things pass through it and are re-defined. It is a sweet and precise torture.
Jeanette WintersonTag: love kiss the-passion jeanette-winterson
La verdadera Oscuridad es más densa y más silenciosa; llena el espacio que hay entre la chaqueta y el corazón. Se mete en los ojos. Cuando estoy fuera por la noche, no son los cuchillos lo que me da miedo, sino la Oscuridad. Tú que caminas tan alegremente, silbando, detente cinco minutos. Detente en la Oscuridad en un campo o en un sendero. Entonces te darás cuenta de que tu presencia es sólo tolerada. La Oscuridad sólo te permite dar un paso cada vez. El paso y la Oscuridad se cierran contra tu espalda. Delante de ti no hay espacio ninguno hasta que das el paso. La Oscuridad es absoluta. Caminar por la Oscuridad es como nadar por debajo del agua, sólo que no se puede subir a coger aire.
Jeanette WintersonI was at a party in 1989 and Ian McEwan, Martin Amis and Salman Rushdie were sitting on a sofa wondering where the next generation of great British writers would come from. As we talked, it became clear they had never read a word by me.
Jeanette WintersonWhen I had no books and had to learn everything I needed off by heart, and when I had to hide what books I had, I promised myself a library filled with the best editions I could afford. I have it now. Books bought out of books. A red room with deep chairs and a fireplace lit. Books of every kind, but no paperbacks, and certain shelves where First Editions are. This is not my study, where there are plenty of paperbacks, it is a contemplative island cut off from busyness, set outside of time.
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