Jeanette Winterson World Quotations

Nothing can be forgotten. Nothing can be lost. The universe itself is one vast memory system. Look back and you will find the beginnings of the world.

The probability of separate worlds meeting is very small. The lure of it is immense. We send starships. We fall in love.

Tell me a story, Pew. What kind of story, child? A story with a happy ending. There’s no such thing in all the world. As a happy ending? As an ending.

Slightest accidents open up new worlds.

She was fragile, gentle, wide awake in a sleeping world.

Growing up is difficult. Strangely, even when we have stopped growing physically, we seem to have to keep on growing emotionally, which involves both expansion and shrinkage, as some parts of us develop and others must be allowed to disappear...Rigidity never works; we end up being the wrong size for our world.

We live in a world of buy it or leave it. Love does not signify.

…only a poet could frame a language that could frame a world.

Today we are all speeding under the golden arms of the arches into our city, into our lives, into the world that is a stream of information, ceaselessly collected and projected.

I think we are worlds compressed into human form.

What a strange world this is when you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo.

In a world where meaning is often absent or imposed, reading offers a dialogue with ourselves, with society, with history, and with the dead.

The world is surely wide enough to walk without fear.

There's so little wonder left in the world because we've seen everything one way or another'.

When pieces of work speak to us in a way that feels as if they were made just for us, those become our private worlds that we return to.

I am getting much more political as I get older. It's the duty of any writer, in particular, not to stand back from the world.

One day, tens of millions of years from now, someone will find me rusted into the mud of a world they have never seen, and when they crumble me between their fingers, it will be you they find.

In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire that mocks the sun. This place will warm me, feed me and care for me. I will hold on to this pulse against other rhythms. The world will come and go in the tide of a day but here is her hand with my future in its palm.

To be ill adjusted to a deranged world is not a breakdown.

The body can endure compromise and the mind can be seduced by it. Only the heart protests. The heart. Carbon-based primitive in a silicon world.