Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

by Jeanette Winterson

‘There’s this world,’ she banged the wall graphically, ‘and there’s this world,’ she thumped her chest. ‘If you want to make sense of either, you have to take notice of both.’

Once created, the creature was separate from the creator, and needed no seconding to fully exist.

She spread the cards. ‘There’s time enough for you to get a boy.’ ‘I don’t think I want one.’ ‘There’s what we want,’ she said, putting down a jack, ‘and there’s what we get, remember that.’

‘If I let them take away my demons, I’ll have to give up what I’ve found.’

As far as I was concerned men were something you had around the place, not particularly interesting, but quite harmless.

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.

I have a theory that every time you make an important choice, the part of you left behind continues the other life you could have had.

By betrayal, I mean promising to be on your side, then being on somebody else’s.