Fragile creatures of a small blue planet, surrounded by light years of silent space. Jeanette Winterson More Quotes by Jeanette Winterson More Quotes From Jeanette Winterson Make three wishes and they shall all come true. Make three hundred and I will honour every one Jeanette Winterson hundredthreewish When my husband had an affair with someone else I watched his eyes glaze over when we ate dinner together and I heard him singing to himself without me, and when he tended the garden it was not for me. He was courteous and polite; he enjoyed being at home, but in the fantasy of his home I was not the one who sat opposite him and laughed at his jokes. He didn't want to change anything; he liked his life. The only thing he wanted to change was me. Jeanette Winterson husbandeyehome Birth is a shipwreck, the mewling infant shored on unknown land. Jeanette Winterson infantbirthland It was actually books that started to make those pockets of freedom, which I hadn't otherwise experienced. I do see them as talismans, as sacred objects. I see them as something that will protect me, I suppose, that will save me from things that I feel are threatening. I still think that; it doesn't change. It doesn't change, having money, being successful. So from the very first, if I was hurt in some way, then I would take a book -- which was very difficult for me to buy when I was little -- and I would go up into the hills, and that is how I would assuage my hurt. Jeanette Winterson successfulhurtbook Our broken society is not born out of the triumph of the individual, but out of his effacement. He vanishes, she vanishes, ask them who they are and they will offer you a wallet or a child. Jeanette Winterson triumphbrokenchildren 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 gainsglassesloss The stories we sit up late to hear are love stories. It seems that we cannot know enough about this riddle of our lives. We go back and back to the same scenes, the same words, trying to scrape out the meaning. Nothing could be more familiar than love. Nothing else eludes us so completely. Jeanette Winterson meaning-nothingelude-ustrying One room is always enough for one person. Two rooms is not enough for two people. That is one of the conundrums in life. Jeanette Winterson literaturetwopeople My characters are always on the outside; the spotlight's not on them. But they do get somewhere. Jeanette Winterson spotlightliteraturecharacter My books always begin with a sentence and an image - not necessarily connected. Jeanette Winterson connectedliteraturebook Many people feel their outer self isn't the whole self. Jeanette Winterson literatureselfpeople London is a small place, and it is very incestuous. People know where you live. Everybody is sort of on top of each other. Jeanette Winterson where-you-liveliteraturepeople If we make anything that lasts, it outlives us. Jeanette Winterson lastsliteratureifs I wanted to write a new fable and see how many rules you could break. Jeanette Winterson fablesliteraturewriting I think we still believe that ambition is for boys. Jeanette Winterson ambitionboysbelieve If there's one thing I can't stand it's a hero without a cause. People like that just make trouble so that they can solve it. Jeanette Winterson causesheropeople I fell into the books, and left myself there for safekeeping. Jeanette Winterson leftwritingbook Men will gamble and plot and fight and fall, all for the winning of a trophy. A woman's heart, a piece of land, a kingdom, a lordship, a contract, a ship, an egg -- it hardly matters the which or the what, as soon as it is seen to be desired by one, another will make a prize of it. Jeanette Winterson fightingheartfall It is only habit and routine that makes the void look like purpose. Jeanette Winterson routinepurposelooks It may be that there was no reason or purpose, for mankind must always be finding reasons where there are none, and comfort in a purpose that hardly exists. Jeanette Winterson purposecomfortmay
