Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

by Jeanette Winterson

She was wrong, as far as we were concerned, but right as far as she was concerned, and really, that’s what mattered.

The Devil himself, he reminded us, can come as an angel of light.

words you could trust and look at till you understood them, they couldn’t change half way through a sentence like people, so it was easier to spot a lie.

People have never had a problem disposing of the past when it gets too difficult. Flesh will burn, photos will burn, and memory, what is that? The imperfect ramblings of fools who will not see the need to forget. And if we can’t dispose of it we can alter it. The dead don’t shout.

What is it about intimacy that makes it so very disturbing?

No, he wouldn’t kill me, soft-voiced men do not kill, they are clever. Their kind of violence leaves no visible mark.

Going back after a long time will make you mad, because the people you left behind do not like to think of you changed, will treat you as they always did, accuse you of being indifferent, when you are only different.