People will believe anything.Except, it seems, the truth.
Mrs. Winterson did not have a soothing personality. Ask for reassurance and it would never come. I never asked her if she loved me. She loved me on those days when she was able to love. I really belie...
Lies 1: There is only the present and nothing to remember.Lies 2: Time is a straight line.Lies 3: The difference between the past and the future is that one has happened while the other has not.Lies 4...
I'm not afraid of what I am. I'm afraid I will see what I am not.
I can change the story. I am the story.
But making the ugly hurt part human again is not an exercise for the well-meaning social worker in us.This is the most dangerous work you can do. It is like bomb disposal but you are the bomb. That's...
The Pope is often an embarrassment. Each Pope nurses his own foibles and follies, pet truths and pet hates, and all must be accommodated within the seamless seemingly unchanging whole of Catholic Trut...
Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse.
It may be that you are settled in another place it may be that you are happy but the one who took your heart wields final power.
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 an...
Going mad is the beginning of a process. It is not supposed to be the end result.
There is still a popular fantasy, long since disproved by both psychoanalysis and science, and never believed by any poet or mystic, that it is possible to have a thought without a feeling. It isn't....
She found that the whole world could be contained in one place because that place was herself. Nothing had prepared her for this.
I made him walk on a lead and he jumped for joy, the way creatures do, and children do and adults don't do, and spend their lives wondering where the leap went.
I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice.
I had lines inside me, a string of guiding lights. I had language. Fiction and poetry are doses, medicines. What they heal is the rupture reality makes on the imagination. I had been damaged, and a ve...
I asked my mother why we couldn’t have books and she said, ‘The trouble with a book is that you never know what’s in it until it’s too late.'I thought to myself, 'Too late for what?
Diuen que cada floc de neu és diferent. Si això fos cert, com podria el món anar endavant? Com podríem aixecar-nos de les nostres genuflexions? Com podríem recuperar-nos d’una meravella així?Oblidant....
Atlas said, 'Must my future be so heavy?' Hera said, 'That is your present, Atlas. Your future hardens every day, but it is not fixed.' 'How can I escape my fate?' 'You must choose your destiny.
Language is a finding-place not a hiding place.