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It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 68
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Something
Never
Oleanders
Destroy
Natural

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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How can I shed tears for a man I should never have allowed to touch me in any way?
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like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
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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.
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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.
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Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
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She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.
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If sinners where so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I?
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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.
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I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.
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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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I could hear the icy winds of Sweden, but he didn't seem to feel the chill.
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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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Dawn tinted the darkness like water ink.
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We read so that we can be moved by a new way of looking at things.
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You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
Janet Fitch
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Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.
Janet Fitch
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She laughed so easily when she was happy. But also when she was sad.
Janet Fitch
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What is real is always worth it.
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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
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What happened to a dream without a dreamer?
Janet Fitch