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My house is modern, but I like my writing room to be old fashioned. I write on a little wooden secretary desk.
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
House
Desk
Littles
Desks
Little
Fashioned
Writing
Secretary
Like
Room
Rooms
Modern
Write
Wooden
More quotes by Janet Fitch
Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
Janet Fitch
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
Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
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
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
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
I could hear the icy winds of Sweden, but he didn't seem to feel the chill.
Janet Fitch
And if there is no god? You act as if there is, and it's the same thing.
Janet Fitch
Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.
Janet Fitch
I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.
Janet Fitch
She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.
Janet Fitch
It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.
Janet Fitch
Girls were born knowing how destructive the truth could be. They learned to hold it in, tamp it down, like gunpowder in an old fashioned gun. Then it exploded in your face on a November day in the rain.
Janet Fitch
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
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.
Janet Fitch
To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful.
Janet Fitch
I felt like time was a great sea, and I was floating on the back of a turtle, and no sails broke the horizon.
Janet Fitch
What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?
Janet Fitch
That kind of tenderness couldn't be permitted to last. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like the guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
Janet Fitch
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
