Quote

Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear. She put her own two fingers in her mouth. Im so sorry. And pulled the trigger

Janet Fitch

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Like
Fingers
Trigger
Sorry
Triggers
Ears
Pulled
Hair
Lover
Peace
Mouth
Death
Tongue
Running
Mouths
Caressing
Two
Lovers
Promising

More quotes by Janet Fitch

Image
Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.
Janet Fitch
Image
I thought how tenuous the links were between mother and children between friends family things you think are eternal. Everything could be lost more easily than anyone could imagine.
Janet Fitch
Image
The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.
Janet Fitch
Image
Memory is the fourth dimension to any landscape.
Janet Fitch
Image
I was always mortified.Didn't they know they were tying thier mothers to the ground? Weren't chains ashamed of their prisoners?
Janet Fitch
Image
like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
Janet Fitch
Image
Life should always be like this. ... Like lingering over a good meal.
Janet Fitch
Image
Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.
Janet Fitch
Image
I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
Janet Fitch
Image
To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful.
Janet Fitch
Image
...The men eyed her with the automatic mix of curiosity, lust, and aesthetic judgment they always gave young women, subject to object, the way you'd stare at an animal. She pretended not to notice. To remind them she was a person was too much effort. Objects bore no guilt.
Janet Fitch
Image
She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing.
Janet Fitch
Image
She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.
Janet Fitch
Image
Being in the library is so addictive for me that I really have to exercise self-control so I can get some writing done at home.
Janet Fitch
Image
A cliche is everything you've ever heard of.
Janet Fitch
Image
Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.
Janet Fitch
Image
He hated crowds, never liked punk. He couldn't handle the nakedness of the rage -his own so sophisticated and finely tuned. He could never see the similarity between himself and Donnie Draino screaming into a mic.
Janet Fitch
Image
At every moment, each instrument knew what to play. Its little bit. But none could see the whole thing like this, all at once, only its own part. Just like life. Each person was like a line of music, but nobody knew what the symphony sounded like. Only the conductor had the whole score.
Janet Fitch
Image
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.
Janet Fitch
Image
We have no home, she told me. I am your home.
Janet Fitch