I live alone, with cats, books, pictures, fresh vegetables to cook, the garden, the hens to feed.
Jeanette WintersonLondon is a small place, and it is very incestuous. People know where you live. Everybody is sort of on top of each other.
Jeanette WintersonThe 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 could be more familiar than love. Nothing else eludes us so completely.
Jeanette Winterson