[b]Jeanette Winterson
I dreamed I was a single moment in a single day. A note struck and vanished. A sounding. A reckoning. Gone.[/b]
On the other hand, going all the way back to the Big Bang, how far removed is any one particular human life from that?
I didn’t want to be in the teeming mass of the working class. I didn’t want to live and die in the same place with only a week at the seaside in between. I dreamed of escape - but what is terrible about industrialisation is that it makes escape necessary. In a system that generates masses, individualism is the only way out. But then what happens to community - to society?
[i]Pick three:
1] pop culture
2] mindless consumption
3] worshipping celebrities
Oh, and don’t forget to vote![/i]
Like all familiar objects, it had become invisible.
I know: If only that were actually true.
The pursuit of happiness isn’t all or nothing— it’s all and nothing.
About fifty-fifty I reckon.
The truth is that love smashes into your life like 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.
You know what’s coming: “So they tell me”.
I’m telling you stories. Trust me.
In other words, it’s now entirely up to you to differentiate them from lies.