Jeanette Winterson Quotes

Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.

All healthy men have thought of their own suicide

[I] have fantasies of killing myself and thus being the powerful one not the powerless one.

The thought of suicide is a great source of comfort: with it a calm passage is to be made across many a bad night.

Suicide only really frightens those who are never tempted by it and never will be, for its darkness only welcomes those who are predestined to it.

That is what chills your spine when you read an account of a suicide: not the frail corpse hanging from the window bars but what happened inside that heart immediately before.

I never felt like dying was a good idea.

We have to fight off the demons that have been hanging around suicide for centuries.

I want to live but I want to die. What do I do?

Kill me, I don't care. I do not want to be on this Earth anymore.

And so I leave this world, where the heart must either break or turn to lead (suicide note)

It is cowardice to commit suicide.

The man, who in a fit of melancholy, kills himself today, would have wished to live had he waited a week.

Did I pray for death? I did one time. I wanted to die so badly. And I didn't want to die. I wanted to rest, you know. And I knew the only rest I would find is in death.

Thinking about suicide is a potent consolation: it helps us to get through many a bad night.

I can't get my wrists to bleed, just don't know why suicide appeals to me.

Don't untie me," she said, "no matter what happens or how much I plead. I'll want to go straight over the edge and drown myself." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Ha-ha.

I'm glad that I never ended up killing myself, though I came close more times than I would like to admit.

For people considering suicide, it is bullshit. Endure the moment.

You never can tell, though, with suicide notes, can you? In the planetary aggregate of all life, there are many more suicide notes than there are suicides. They're like poems in that respect, suicide notes: nearly everyone tries their hand at them some time, with or without the talent. We all write them in our heads. Usually the note is the thing. You complete it, and then resume your time travel. It is the note and not the life that is cancelled out. Or the other way round. Or death. You never can tell, though, can you, with suicide notes.

Suicide to them is an act of selfishness. Someone who is truly selfless does not think of himself often enough to desire death.

There are a great many ways to commit suicide you know.

I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.

I wanted to die. I had a panic attack.