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Now I wish she'd never broken any of her rules. I understood why she held to them so hard. Once you broke the first one, they all broke, one by one, like firecrackers exploding in your face in a parking lot on the Fourth of July.
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
Face
Parking
Faces
July
Wish
Fourth
Firsts
Broke
First
Held
Firecrackers
Hard
Rules
Oleanders
Never
Understood
Firecracker
Like
Broken
Exploding
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It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.
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A cliché is like a coin that has been handled too much. Once language has been overly handled, it no longer leaves a clear imprint.
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My hatred gives me strength.
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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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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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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
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I wish my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart.
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Wasn't that the way it always was? You didn't know, you couldn't tell, you just let it happen... Perhaps they didn't know themselves. Sometimes the line was very fine.
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It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.
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I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.
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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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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.
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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
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without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
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No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.
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This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.
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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.
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Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
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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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