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Memory is the fourth dimension to any landscape.

Janet Fitch

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Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Dimension
Fourth
Dimensions
Landscape
Memory
Memories

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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Inside every human being, there is unlimited time and space.
Janet Fitch
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The nearest I'd come to feeling anything like God was the plan blue cloudless sky and a certain silence, but how do you pray to that?
Janet Fitch
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Your protagonist is your reader’s portal into the story. The more observant he or she can be, the more vivid will be the world you’re creating. They don’t have to be super-educated, they just have to be mentally active. Keep them looking, thinking, wondering, remembering.
Janet Fitch
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Dawn tinted the darkness like water ink.
Janet Fitch
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Don't hoard the past. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.
Janet Fitch
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Never apologize. Never explain.
Janet Fitch
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The word rattled in my head like rocks in an oatmeal box.
Janet Fitch
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This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.
Janet Fitch
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That was what she really wanted. To forget so thoroughly she'd never have another memory again, the bitter so bitter you gave up the sweet.
Janet Fitch
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Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
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The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.
Janet Fitch
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A novel is like a dream in which everyone is you. They’re all parts of yourself.
Janet Fitch
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What happened to a dream without a dreamer?
Janet Fitch
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Women always put men first. That's how everything got so screwed up.
Janet Fitch
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Remember...we don't see objects, we see light. [...] Light can do anything water can do--flow, wash, trickle. It can do anything an artist can do--paint, burnish, carve. Candlelight falls, licks a face. There is always light in a room.
Janet Fitch
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Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.
Janet Fitch
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What was beauty unless you intended to use it, like a hammer, or a key? It was just something for other people to use and admire, or envy, despise. To nail their dreams onto like a picture hanger on a blank wall. And so many girls saying, use me, dream me.
Janet Fitch
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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
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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
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My father was an engineer - he wasn't literary, not a writer or a journalist, but he was one of the world's great readers. Every two weeks, he'd take me to our local branch library and pull books off the shelf for me, stacking them up in my arms - 'Have you read this? And this? And this?
Janet Fitch