Quote

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

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Janet Fitch
Age: 68
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Wonderful
Wandered
Books
Opinionated
Party
Whispering
Running
Spine
Hands
Reminded
Book
Shelves
Spines
Guests
Stacks
Along
Cultured

More quotes by Janet Fitch

Image
She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.
Janet Fitch
Image
purification in fire. public cremation
Janet Fitch
Image
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.
Janet Fitch
Image
If I get ideas independently of the act of writing, they never really fit. So for me, there's no hanging out, waiting for inspiration.
Janet Fitch
Image
My hatred gives me strength.
Janet Fitch
Image
I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
Janet Fitch
Image
Life should always be like this. ... Like lingering over a good meal.
Janet Fitch
Image
We don't have a unitary society anymore, you know it's very fragmented. I look up and down my block in Silverlake and there is a different universe in every house.
Janet Fitch
Image
There is no God, there is only what you want.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
Image
Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
Janet Fitch
Image
In a perverse way, I was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars. What was the point in just being hurt on the inside? It should bloody well show.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
Image
You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.
Janet Fitch
Image
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.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
Image
The word rattled in my head like rocks in an oatmeal box.
Janet Fitch
Image
Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.
Janet Fitch
Image
I thought of my mother as Queen Christina, cool and sad, eyes trained on some distant horizon. That was where she belonged, in furs and palaces of rare treasures, fireplaces large enough to roast a reindeer, ships of Swedish maple.
Janet Fitch
Image
Inside every human being, there is unlimited time and space.
Janet Fitch