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Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.

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
Couldn
Band
Remember
Really
Sang
Tried

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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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.
Janet Fitch
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We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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You can't shape me anymore. I am the uncontrolled element, the random act. I am forward movement in time. You think you can see me? Then tell me, who am I? You don't know.
Janet Fitch
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A person didn’t need to be beautiful, they just needed to be loved. But I couldn’t help wanting it. If that was the way I could be loved, to be beautiful, I’d take it
Janet Fitch
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Remember...we don't see objects, we see light. [...] Light can do anything water can do--flow, wash, trickle. It can do anything an artist can do--paint, burnish, carve. Candlelight falls, licks a face. There is always light in a room.
Janet Fitch
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Panic was the worst thing. When you panicked, you couldn't see possibilities. Then came despair.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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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.
Janet Fitch
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Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
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A cliche is everything you've ever heard of.
Janet Fitch
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I could hear the icy winds of Sweden, but he didn't seem to feel the chill.
Janet Fitch
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Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.
Janet Fitch
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What happened to a dream without a dreamer?
Janet Fitch
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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
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It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.
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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What is real is always worth it.
Janet Fitch
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her scruffy innoscense to impregnate with his dreams. reason was seductive, it gave the appearance of truth
Janet Fitch
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I use my fiction to explore my own unconscious issues. I usually don't even know what's going on with me until I'm writing.
Janet Fitch