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: 69
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
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
Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
Image
I couldn't imagine owning beauty like my mothers. I wouldn't dare.
Janet Fitch
Image
What is real is always worth it.
Janet Fitch
Image
I wanted to hear what she was saying. I wanted to smell that burnt midnight again, I wanted to feel that wind. It was a secret wanting, like a song I couldn't stop humming, or loving someone I could never have. No matter where I went, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.
Janet Fitch
Image
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.
Janet Fitch
Image
There is no God, there is only what you want.
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
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.
Janet Fitch
Image
The story of her life. God gave you everything just to take it away. Just so you knew exactly what you were missing.
Janet Fitch
Image
I almost said, you're not broken, you're just going through something. But i couldn't. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn't worked.
Janet Fitch
Image
When you're a little kid, you are small, your life is small - and you're terrifically aware of that. But when you read, you can ride Arabian horses across the desert, you can be a dogsledder.
Janet Fitch
Image
My hatred gives me strength.
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
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
I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
Janet Fitch
Image
How could anybody confuse truth with beauty, I thought as I looked at him. Truth came with sunken eyes, bony or scarred, decayed. Its teeth were bad, its hair gray and unkempt. While beauty was empty as a gourd, vain as a parakeet. But it had power. It smelled of musk and oranges and made you close your eyes in a prayer.
Janet Fitch
Image
She was not used to being cruel, but he had taught her how.
Janet Fitch
Image
echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.
Janet Fitch
Image
Let me tell you a few things about regret...There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning which ended so badly, or just the ending itself?
Janet Fitch