Quote

I imagined my soul taking in these words like silicated water in the Petrified Forest, turning my wood to patterned agate. I liked it when my mother shaped me this way. I thought clay must feel happy in the good potter's hand.

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
Feel
Hand
Wood
Must
Happy
Forest
Feels
Water
Imagined
Patterned
Way
Words
Forests
Petrified
Good
Mother
Turning
Potter
Like
Hands
Woods
Potters
Thought
Liked
Shaped
Soul
Taking
Clay

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This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.
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The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.
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It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
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Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.
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We have no home, she told me. I am your home.
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It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.
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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!
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She laughed so easily when she was happy. But also when she was sad.
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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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I decided that if I was never going to sell anything as long as I lived, I might as well do what I want to do 'cause then at least I would've done what I wanted to do in life. What's that worth?
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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
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And I realized as I walked through the neighborhood how each house could contain a completely different reality. In a single block, there could be fifty seperate worlds. Nobody ever really knew what was going on just next door.
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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 felt like time was a great sea, and I was floating on the back of a turtle, and no sails broke the horizon.
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What was beauty unless you intended to use it, like a hammer, or a key? It was just something for other people to use and admire, or envy, despise. To nail their dreams onto like a picture hanger on a blank wall. And so many girls saying, use me, dream me.
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Never apologize. Never explain.
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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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Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.
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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.
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Girls were born knowing how destructive the truth could be. They learned to hold it in, tamp it down, like gunpowder in an old fashioned gun. Then it exploded in your face on a November day in the rain.
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