Quote

Do you ever want to go home?' I asked Paul. He brushed an ash from my face. 'It's the century of the displaced person,' he said. 'You can never go home.

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
Face
Faces
Home
Brushed
Persons
Displaced
Person
Ashes
Ever
Paul
Never
Asked
Century

More quotes by Janet Fitch

Image
To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful.
Janet Fitch
Image
without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
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
Image
It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.
Janet Fitch
Image
I've been depressed many times in my life. But under it all I'm an optimist.
Janet Fitch
Image
She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot. I was bricks sewn into the hem of her clothes, I was a steel dress
Janet Fitch
Image
A cliche is everything you've ever heard of.
Janet Fitch
Image
She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.
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
But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.
Janet Fitch
Image
She was not used to being cruel, but he had taught her how.
Janet Fitch
Image
I took the volume to a table, opened its soft, ivory pages... and fell into it as into a pool during dry season.
Janet Fitch
Image
Isn't it funny.I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than i ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that's something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It's hard, or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but Hatred cradles you.
Janet Fitch
Image
My hatred gives me strength.
Janet Fitch
Image
She would buy magic every day of the week. Love me, that face said. I'm so lonely, so desperate. I'll give you whatever you want.
Janet Fitch
Image
I wish my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart.
Janet Fitch
Image
this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces
Janet Fitch
Image
Aquamarines grew with emeralds, Claire told me. But emeralds were fragile and always broke into smaller pieces, while aquamarines were stronger, grew in huge crystals without any trouble, so they weren't worth as much. It was the emerald that didn't break that was the really valuable thing.
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
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