I felt like a seed in a pomegranate. Some say that the pomegranate was the real apple of Eve, fruit of the womb, I would eat my way into perdition to taste you.
Interpretation
The quote expresses deep longing and desire, comparing intense feelings of love to the experience of being a seed within a pomegranate.
In this quote, Jeanette Winterson uses the metaphor of a seed within a pomegranate to depict the complexity of desire and love. The pomegranate symbolizes richness and hidden depths, suggesting that the feelings are both nourishing and potentially destructive. By referencing the biblical apple associated with temptation, Winterson implies that this love is both intoxicating and perilous, highlighting the dichotomy of pleasure and suffering in passionate relationships.
In practice
This quote could be used in a romantic letter to express deep feelings for a partner.
What is remembered is not a deed in stone but a metaphor. Meta = above. Pheren = to carry. That which is carried above the literalness of life. A way of thinking that avoids the problems of gravity. The word won't let me down. The single word that can release me from all that unuttered weight.
Reading things that are relevant to the facts of your life is of limited value. The facts are, after all, only the facts, and the yearning passionate part of you will not be met there. That is why reading ourselves as a fiction as well as fact is so liberating. The wider we read the freer we become.
I have a list of titles that I leave at the [library] desk, because they are bound to be written some day, and it's best to be ahead of the queue.
Woolf wanted to say dangerous things in Orlando but she did not want to say them in the missionary position.
In that house, you will find my heart. You must break in, Henri, and get it back for me.' Was she mad? We had been talking figuratively. Her heart was in her body like mine. I tried to explain this to her, but she took my hand and put it against her chest. Feel for yourself.
History is a string full of knots, the best you can do is admire it, and maybe tie it up a bit more. History is a hammock for swinging and a game for playing.
Love properly understood is God—the font of all creation and the ultimate goal of all desires; God properly understood is love.
He would not let her go. Even though, staring into her open eyes in the swirling salt-filled water, with sun flashing though each wave, he thought he would like this moment to be forever: the dark-haired woman on shore calling for their safety, the girl who had once jumped rope like a queen, now holding him with a fierceness that matched the power of the ocean—oh, insane, ludicrous, unknowable world! Look how she wanted to live, look how she wanted to hold on.
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
But in my arms she was always Lolita.
Happiness is not something you acquire; love is not something you produce; love is not something you have; love is something that has you.
And then I saw him and nothing was ever the same again. The sky was never the same colour, the moon never the same shape: the air never smelt the same, food never tasted the same. Every word I knew changed its meaning, everything that once was stable and firm became as insubstantial as a puff of wind, and every puff of wind became a solid thing I could feel and touch.
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