Quote

She would buy magic every day of the week. Love me, that face said. I'm so lonely, so desperate. I'll give you whatever you want.

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
Face
Whatever
Faces
Give
Giving
Desperate
Every
Lonely
Would
Magic
Love
Week

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To make films, you have to have boundless energy you have to work and play with others really, really well, and I'm really a more contemplative kind of person. I like to sit at home and think, a lot.
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I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
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Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.
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She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.
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Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.
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I almost said, you're not broken, you're just going through something. But i couldn't. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn't worked.
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without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
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She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.
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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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Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.
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purification in fire. public cremation
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That was what she really wanted. To forget so thoroughly she'd never have another memory again, the bitter so bitter you gave up the sweet.
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We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.
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Do you ever want to go home?' I asked Paul. He brushed an ash from my face. 'It's the century of the displaced person,' he said. 'You can never go home.
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This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.
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I understood why she did it. At that moment I knew why people tagged graffiti on the walls of neat little houses and scratched the paint on new cars and beat up well-tended children. It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.
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A womans mistakes are different from a girls
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They say drugs are not the answer, but really, what is the question?
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The story of her life. God gave you everything just to take it away. Just so you knew exactly what you were missing.
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But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.
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