Quote

A womans mistakes are different from a girls

Janet Fitch

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Mistakes
Girls
Mistake
Girl
Different
Womans

More quotes by Janet Fitch

Image
history only existed in the human mind, subject to endless revision. 'each man kills the thing he loves'-Oscar Wilde. You kill it before it kills you, but he was wrong. you killed it by accident. thinking you were doing something else. shattering, when all you wanted to do was keep it safe.
Janet Fitch
Image
And if there is no god? You act as if there is, and it's the same thing.
Janet Fitch
Image
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?
Janet Fitch
Image
Panic was the worst thing. When you panicked, you couldn't see possibilities. Then came despair.
Janet Fitch
Image
At every moment, each instrument knew what to play. Its little bit. But none could see the whole thing like this, all at once, only its own part. Just like life. Each person was like a line of music, but nobody knew what the symphony sounded like. Only the conductor had the whole score.
Janet Fitch
Image
Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
Image
A cliche is like a coin that has been handled too much. Once language has been overly handled, it no longer leaves a clear imprint.
Janet Fitch
Image
purification in fire. public cremation
Janet Fitch
Image
When I start writing, my unconscious, my conflicts, my thoughts all start to come up. So for me, writing is an exploration. I never know how my stories will end.
Janet Fitch
Image
Pick a better verb. Most people use twenty verbs to describe everything from a run in their stocking to the explosion of an A-bomb.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
Image
Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.
Janet Fitch
Image
Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.
Janet Fitch
Image
The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
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
Women always put men first. That's how everything got so screwed up.
Janet Fitch
Image
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
Image
They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.
Janet Fitch