Quote

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.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 68
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Never
Memory
Gave
Sweet
Memories
Forget
Another
Wanted
Thoroughly
Really
Bitter

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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Your protagonist is your reader’s portal into the story. The more observant he or she can be, the more vivid will be the world you’re creating. They don’t have to be super-educated, they just have to be mentally active. Keep them looking, thinking, wondering, remembering.
Janet Fitch
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When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things.
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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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without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
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It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
Janet Fitch
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A womans mistakes are different from a girls
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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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You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.
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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
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There is no God, there is only what you want.
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Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.
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What is real is always worth it.
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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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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'm a fish swimming by...catch me if you want me.
Janet Fitch
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Who was I, really? I was the sole occupant of my mother's totalitarian state, my own personal history rewritten to fit the story she was telling that day. There were so many missing pieces. I was starting to find some of them, working my way upriver, collecting a secret cache of broken memories in a shoebox.
Janet Fitch
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purification in fire. public cremation
Janet Fitch
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like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch