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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: 68
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Way
Words
Forests
Petrified
Good
Mother
Turning
Potter
Like
Hands
Woods
Potters
Thought
Liked
Shaped
Soul
Taking
Clay
Feel
Hand
Wood
Must
Happy
Forest
Feels
Water
Imagined
Patterned
More quotes by Janet Fitch
Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your mind. In life, knowledge of poisons is essential. I've told you, nobody becomes an artist unless they have to.
Janet Fitch
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
Women always put men first. That's how everything got so screwed up.
Janet Fitch
I could hear the icy winds of Sweden, but he didn't seem to feel the chill.
Janet Fitch
One can bear anything. The pain we cannot bear will kill us outright.
Janet Fitch
Beauty was deceptive. I would rather wear my pain, my ugliness. I was torn and stitched. I was a strip mine, and they would just have to look. I hoped I made them sick. I hoped they saw me in their dreams.
Janet Fitch
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.
Janet Fitch
It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
Janet Fitch
Panic was the worst thing. When you panicked, you couldn't see possibilities. Then came despair.
Janet Fitch
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.
Janet Fitch
I'm a fish swimming by...catch me if you want me.
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Appealing to the five senses is the feature that will always set writing apart from the visual media. A good writer will tell us what the world smells like, what the textures are, what the sounds are, what the light looks like, what the weather is.
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without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
Janet Fitch
echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.
Janet Fitch
It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.
Janet Fitch
What is real is always worth it.
Janet Fitch
I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.
Janet Fitch
She was not used to being cruel, but he had taught her how.
Janet Fitch
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.
Janet Fitch
...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
