In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire that mocks the sun. This place will warm me, feed… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire that mocks the sun. — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
I think of love as a force of nature-as strog as the sun, as necessary, as impersonal, as gigantic, as impossible, as… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“I went outside, tripping over slabs of sunshine the size of towns. The sun was like a crowd of people, it was… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
This is where the story starts, in this threadbare room. The walls are exploding. The windows have turned into telescopes. Moon and… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Love is vivid. I never wanted the pale version. Love is full strength. I never wanted the diluted version. I never shied… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Love, they say, enslaves and passion is a demon and many have been lost for love. I know this is true, but… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“She was a bright disc in him that left him sun-spun. She was circular, light-turned, equinox-sprung. She was season and movement, but… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Today, the sun is everywhere, and everything solid is nothing but its own shadow, I know that the real things in life,… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Do you wake up as I do, having forgotten what it is that hurts or where, until you move? There is a… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
If the sun is shining, stand in it- yes, yes, yes. Happy times are great, but happy times pass- they have to-… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“After nine nights must come ten and every desperate meeting only leaves you desperate for another. There is never enough to eat, never enough… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
You never give away your heart; you lend it from time to time. If it were not so, how could we take it back… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
I have found that I am not a space where people want to live, at least not without decorating first. — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“Yes. Just pass me my leg will you? It's on top of the wardrobe where he threw it, and I think my right arm… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Every second the Universe divides into possibilities and most of those possibilities never happen. It is not a uni-verse -- there is more than… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“It's the cliches that cause the trouble. A precise emotion seeks a precise expression. If what I feel is not precise than how should… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
What would it have meant to be happy? What would it have meant if things had been bright, clear, good between us? — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“Mrs Ratlow was a widow, and she was head of English, but she still did all the cooking and cleaning for her two sons,… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
“What art does is to coax us away from the mechanical and towards the miraculous. The so-called uselessness of art is a clue to… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
Happy Valentines Day to those who have found love, in whatever shape or form, and to those who are still hunting, don’t give up.… — Jeanette Winterson Copy Share Image
