Quote

I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Eye
Cross
Like
Crosses
Eyelids
Tiny
Dancers
Bird
Dancer
Watches
Closed
Watch
Birds
Eyes
Screen
Dark
Screens

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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I wondered where he was now whether I would ever hear him again. Whether someone would love him, someday show him what beauty mean't.
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Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.
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she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.
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here, here is my dark world. you carry it for a change. im out
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I thought of my mother as Queen Christina, cool and sad, eyes trained on some distant horizon. That was where she belonged, in furs and palaces of rare treasures, fireplaces large enough to roast a reindeer, ships of Swedish maple.
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A dependent clause (a sentence fragment set off by commas, dontcha know) helps you explore your story by moving you deeper into the sentence. It allows you to stop and think harder about what you've already written. Often the story you're looking for is inside the sentence. The dependent clause helps you uncover it.
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I felt like an undeveloped photograph that he was printing, my image rising to the surface under his gaze.
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When I start writing, my unconscious, my conflicts, my thoughts all start to come up. So for me, writing is an exploration. I never know how my stories will end.
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Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your mind. In life, knowledge of poisons is essential. I've told you, nobody becomes an artist unless they have to.
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I couldn't imagine owning beauty like my mothers. I wouldn't dare.
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this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces
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Now I wish she'd never broken any of her rules. I understood why she held to them so hard. Once you broke the first one, they all broke, one by one, like firecrackers exploding in your face in a parking lot on the Fourth of July.
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It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.
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No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.
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If I get ideas independently of the act of writing, they never really fit. So for me, there's no hanging out, waiting for inspiration.
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A person didn’t need to be beautiful, they just needed to be loved. But I couldn’t help wanting it. If that was the way I could be loved, to be beautiful, I’d take it
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Panic was the worst thing. When you panicked, you couldn't see possibilities. Then came despair.
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You can't shape me anymore. I am the uncontrolled element, the random act. I am forward movement in time. You think you can see me? Then tell me, who am I? You don't know.
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Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.
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I took the volume to a table, opened its soft, ivory pages... and fell into it as into a pool during dry season.
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