I've been wanting to put a link to my fav quotes frm her books...and here it is...
these are frm her power book.... ^__^'
Check out the Jeanette Winterson links tht I've linked on my main page. U'll love it!
Enjoy.=)
------------------------------
by
*Jenette Winterson *
To aviod discovery, I stay on the run. To discover things for myself, I stay on the run.
I change the story. I am the story.
What a strange world it is when you can have as much sex as you like, but love is taboo. I'm talking about the real thing, the grand passion, which may not allow affection or convenience or happiness. The truth is that love smashes into your lifelike an ice floe, and even if your heart is built like the titanic you go down. That's the size of it, the immensity of it. It's not proper, it's not clean, it's not containable.
What to say? That the ends of love is haunting. A haunting of dreams. A haunting of silence.
She thinks I'm holding on to pain. She thinks the pain is a souvenir. Perhaps she thinks that the pain is the only way I can feel. As it is, the pain reminds me that my feelings are damaged. The pain doesn't stop me loving- only a false healing could do that-the pain tells me that neither my transmiters nor my receptors are in perfect working order. The pain is not feeling,but it has become an instrument of feeling.
I am not wounded unless you wound me.
I am not strong unless you are my strength.
and it is brave to love, for love is the mortal enemy of death. Love is death's twin, born in the same moment, each fighting for mastery, and if death takes all, love would do the same. Yet it is easier to die than to love.
Death will shatter me, but in love's service, I have been shattered many times.
There is no penance that can calm love and no regret that can make it bitter.
You are close and shuttered to me now, a room without doors or windows, and I cannot enter. But I fell in love with you under the open sky and death cannot change that.
Death can change the body but not the heart.
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 else could be more familiar than love. Nothing could elude us so completely.
My search for you, your search for me, is a search after something that cannot be found. Only the impossible is worth the effort. What we seek is love itself, revealed now and again in human form .the love we seek overrules human nature ..Love never counts the cost, to itself or others, and nothing is as cruel as love. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet.
Love is worth death, love is worth life. My search for you, your search for me, goes beyond life and death into one long call in the wilderness.
Loving you is like lifting a heavy stone. It would be easier not to do it, and Im not quite sure why I'm doing it. It takes all my strength and all my determination, and I said I wouldn't love someone like this again. Is there any sense in loving someone you can only wake up to by chance?
I want to be able to call you. I want to be able to knock on your door. I want to be able to keep your key and give you mine. I want to be seen with you in public. I want there to be no gossip. I want to make supper with you. I want to go shopping with you. I want to know that nothing can come between us except each other.
I keep telling this story-different people, different places, different times-but always you, always me, always this story, because a story is a tightrope between two worlds.
There is no greater grief than to find no happiness but happiness in what is past.
I had never let go of his hand.
We are as light now as our happiness was, lighter than birds.
The wind carries us where it will, but our love is secure.
No one can separate us now, not even God.
' Is this how it ends?' you said.
'It isnt ended yet.'
'If only you could accept me as I am.'
'This is where the wheel spins and spins.'
' We just dig ourselves in deeper.'
'We know all the common-sense solutions.'
' You make it sound like floor cleaner.'
' I don't know how to give you up', I said.
' You could re-write the story.'
' I've tried, haven't you noticed?'
' Is there a better ending than either/or?'
' I can't write it.'
' Bloody, bloody absolutist'
' Blame my parents.'
In this life, you have to be your own hero.
By that I mean you have to win whatever it is that matters to you by your own strength and in your own way.
The past is magnetic. It draws us in. We cannot help ourselves, and as with other things that we cannot help in ourselves, we make up elaborate explanations, reasonable, rational explanations, to chant away the powerful things that don't belong to us.
Love has got complicated, tied up with promises, bruised with plans, dogged with an ending that nobody wants-when all love is, is what it always is-that you look at me and you want me and I don't turn away.
If I want to say no, I will, but for the right reasons. If I want to say yes, I will, but for the right reasons. Leave the consequences, leave the finale, leave the grand statements. The simplicity of feeling should not be taxed. I can't work out what this will cost or what each of us owe. The admission charge is never on the door , but you are open and I want to enter.
I'm looking for something, it's true. Looking for you, looking for me, believing the treasure is really there. I knew from the moment I saw you( as the saying goes) how it was going to begin.
I don't know how it is going to end.
I suffer. I intentionally put myself in the way of suffering as a test, as a measure, to see what will be drawn up- to stop myself from closing up. I don't want to xlose the wound.
Love wounds. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet. Love's exquisite happiness is also love's exquisite pain. I do not seek pain but there is pain. I do not seek suffering but there is suffering. It is better not to flinch, not to try and avoid those things in love's direction. It is not easy, this love, but only the impossible is worth the effort.
If death is everywhere and inescapable, then so is love, if we but knew it .. the tamer my love, the further it is from love.
So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you more calmly is not to love you at all.
Shod or branded? You marked me that day and nothing can cool the wound.
-------------------
i shld think it will hit you in many ways...it did for me....
these are frm her power book.... ^__^'
Check out the Jeanette Winterson links tht I've linked on my main page. U'll love it!
Enjoy.=)
------------------------------
by
*Jenette Winterson *
To aviod discovery, I stay on the run. To discover things for myself, I stay on the run.
I change the story. I am the story.
What a strange world it is when you can have as much sex as you like, but love is taboo. I'm talking about the real thing, the grand passion, which may not allow affection or convenience or happiness. The truth is that love smashes into your lifelike an ice floe, and even if your heart is built like the titanic you go down. That's the size of it, the immensity of it. It's not proper, it's not clean, it's not containable.
What to say? That the ends of love is haunting. A haunting of dreams. A haunting of silence.
She thinks I'm holding on to pain. She thinks the pain is a souvenir. Perhaps she thinks that the pain is the only way I can feel. As it is, the pain reminds me that my feelings are damaged. The pain doesn't stop me loving- only a false healing could do that-the pain tells me that neither my transmiters nor my receptors are in perfect working order. The pain is not feeling,but it has become an instrument of feeling.
I am not wounded unless you wound me.
I am not strong unless you are my strength.
and it is brave to love, for love is the mortal enemy of death. Love is death's twin, born in the same moment, each fighting for mastery, and if death takes all, love would do the same. Yet it is easier to die than to love.
Death will shatter me, but in love's service, I have been shattered many times.
There is no penance that can calm love and no regret that can make it bitter.
You are close and shuttered to me now, a room without doors or windows, and I cannot enter. But I fell in love with you under the open sky and death cannot change that.
Death can change the body but not the heart.
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 else could be more familiar than love. Nothing could elude us so completely.
My search for you, your search for me, is a search after something that cannot be found. Only the impossible is worth the effort. What we seek is love itself, revealed now and again in human form .the love we seek overrules human nature ..Love never counts the cost, to itself or others, and nothing is as cruel as love. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet.
Love is worth death, love is worth life. My search for you, your search for me, goes beyond life and death into one long call in the wilderness.
Loving you is like lifting a heavy stone. It would be easier not to do it, and Im not quite sure why I'm doing it. It takes all my strength and all my determination, and I said I wouldn't love someone like this again. Is there any sense in loving someone you can only wake up to by chance?
I want to be able to call you. I want to be able to knock on your door. I want to be able to keep your key and give you mine. I want to be seen with you in public. I want there to be no gossip. I want to make supper with you. I want to go shopping with you. I want to know that nothing can come between us except each other.
I keep telling this story-different people, different places, different times-but always you, always me, always this story, because a story is a tightrope between two worlds.
There is no greater grief than to find no happiness but happiness in what is past.
I had never let go of his hand.
We are as light now as our happiness was, lighter than birds.
The wind carries us where it will, but our love is secure.
No one can separate us now, not even God.
' Is this how it ends?' you said.
'It isnt ended yet.'
'If only you could accept me as I am.'
'This is where the wheel spins and spins.'
' We just dig ourselves in deeper.'
'We know all the common-sense solutions.'
' You make it sound like floor cleaner.'
' I don't know how to give you up', I said.
' You could re-write the story.'
' I've tried, haven't you noticed?'
' Is there a better ending than either/or?'
' I can't write it.'
' Bloody, bloody absolutist'
' Blame my parents.'
In this life, you have to be your own hero.
By that I mean you have to win whatever it is that matters to you by your own strength and in your own way.
The past is magnetic. It draws us in. We cannot help ourselves, and as with other things that we cannot help in ourselves, we make up elaborate explanations, reasonable, rational explanations, to chant away the powerful things that don't belong to us.
Love has got complicated, tied up with promises, bruised with plans, dogged with an ending that nobody wants-when all love is, is what it always is-that you look at me and you want me and I don't turn away.
If I want to say no, I will, but for the right reasons. If I want to say yes, I will, but for the right reasons. Leave the consequences, leave the finale, leave the grand statements. The simplicity of feeling should not be taxed. I can't work out what this will cost or what each of us owe. The admission charge is never on the door , but you are open and I want to enter.
I'm looking for something, it's true. Looking for you, looking for me, believing the treasure is really there. I knew from the moment I saw you( as the saying goes) how it was going to begin.
I don't know how it is going to end.
I suffer. I intentionally put myself in the way of suffering as a test, as a measure, to see what will be drawn up- to stop myself from closing up. I don't want to xlose the wound.
Love wounds. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet. Love's exquisite happiness is also love's exquisite pain. I do not seek pain but there is pain. I do not seek suffering but there is suffering. It is better not to flinch, not to try and avoid those things in love's direction. It is not easy, this love, but only the impossible is worth the effort.
If death is everywhere and inescapable, then so is love, if we but knew it .. the tamer my love, the further it is from love.
So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you more calmly is not to love you at all.
Shod or branded? You marked me that day and nothing can cool the wound.
-------------------
i shld think it will hit you in many ways...it did for me....
