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Life should always be like this. ... Like lingering over a good meal.

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
Always
Life
Like
Lingering
Meal
Meals
Good

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
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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.
Janet Fitch
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His voice was cloves and nightingales, it took us to spice markets in the Celebs, we drifted with him on a houseboat beyond the Coral Sea. We were like cobras following a reed flute.
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They say drugs are not the answer, but really, what is the question?
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My house is modern, but I like my writing room to be old fashioned. I write on a little wooden secretary desk.
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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She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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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
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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.
Janet Fitch
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What is real is always worth it.
Janet Fitch
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The nearest I'd come to feeling anything like God was the plan blue cloudless sky and a certain silence, but how do you pray to that?
Janet Fitch
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like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
Janet Fitch
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She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot. I was bricks sewn into the hem of her clothes, I was a steel dress
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.
Janet Fitch
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The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.
Janet Fitch
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I'm incredibly restless. I read a lot of poetry. I also find myself reading the first 20 pages of everything, looking for something. And you know what? I'm usually looking for the book I'm writing. And it's not out there!
Janet Fitch
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I wandered through the stacks, running my hands along the spines of the books on the shelves, they reminded me of cultured or opinionated guests at a wonderful party, whispering to each other.
Janet Fitch
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...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