Clementine: "Jeanette Winterson": Jeanette Winterson When I dream of a future in her arms no dark days appear' not even a head cold, and though I know it's nonsense I really believe we would always be happy and that our children would change the world. I sound like those soldiers who dream of home . . . No. She'd vanish for days at a time and I'd weep. She'd forget we had any children and leave me to take care of them. She'd gamble our house away at the Casino, and if I took her to live in France she'd grow to hate me. I know all this and it makes no difference. She'd never be faithful. She'd laugh in my face. First love. Lust. My passion can be explained away. But this is sure: whatever she touches, she reveals.

Jeanette Winterson

When I dream of a future in her arms no dark days appear' not even a head cold, and though I know it's nonsense I really believe we would always be happy and that our children would change the world. I sound like those soldiers who dream of home . . . No. She'd vanish for days at a time and I'd weep. She'd forget we had any children and leave me to take care of them. She'd gamble our house away at the Casino, and if I took her to live in France she'd grow to hate me. I know all this and it makes no difference. She'd never be faithful. She'd laugh in my face. First love. Lust. My passion can be explained away. But this is sure: whatever she touches, she reveals.

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The Passion Jeanette Winterson

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