Quote

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

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Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
Library
Exercise
Control
Home
Self
Done
Writing
Really
Addictive

More quotes by 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.
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Now I wish she'd never broken any of her rules. I understood why she held to them so hard. Once you broke the first one, they all broke, one by one, like firecrackers exploding in your face in a parking lot on the Fourth of July.
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purification in fire. public cremation
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Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.
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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.
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You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
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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.
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One can bear anything. The pain we cannot bear will kill us outright.
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When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things.
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A person didn’t need to be beautiful, they just needed to be loved. But I couldn’t help wanting it. If that was the way I could be loved, to be beautiful, I’d take it
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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.
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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.
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You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.
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Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.
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She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.
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Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.
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Memory is the fourth dimension to any landscape.
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It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
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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
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Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.
Janet Fitch