Back to Winterson’ novel. There are some other words of wisdom left unsaid in my previous post about this book.
So, according to Winterson:
For myself, I would rather live with sins of excess than sins of denial.
Holly water and crosses and mountain air and the protection of saints and a diet of water-cress are all thought to save us as a species from rotting. But what can save us as a species from love?
Islands are metaphors for the heart, no matter what poet says otherwise. My own heart, like this wild place, has never been visited, and I do not know whether it could sustain life.
Time has no meaning, space and place have no meaning, on this journey. All times can be inhibited, all places visited. In a single day the mind can make a millpond of the oceans. Some people who have never crossed the land they were born on have travelled all over the world. The journey is not linear, it is always back and forth, denying the calendar, the wrinkles and lines of the body.
Like the angels, I can be invisible when there is work to be done.
But we do not move through time, time moves through us.
„The Buddhists say there are 149 ways to God. I’m not looking for God, only for myself, and that is far more than complicated. God has had a great deal written about Him; nothing has been written about me.”
People will believe anything.
Except, it seems, the truth.
I don’t hate men, I just wish they’d try harder.
I had sex with a man once: in out in out. A soundtrack of grunts and a big sigh at the end.
He asked: „Did you come?”
Of course I didn’t come, haven’t you read Master’s and Johnson?
The future and the present and the past exist only in our minds, and from a distance the borders of each shrink and fade like the borders of hostile countries seen from a floating city in the sky.