Quote

You can't shape me anymore. I am the uncontrolled element, the random act. I am forward movement in time. You think you can see me? Then tell me, who am I? You don't know.

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
Shapes
Forward
Elements
Movement
Uncontrolled
Tell
Random
Element
Time
Shape
Think
Anymore
Thinking

More quotes by Janet Fitch

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I've been depressed many times in my life. But under it all I'm an optimist.
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I'm a fish swimming by...catch me if you want me.
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Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem.
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How easy I was. Like a limpet I attached myself to anything, anyone who showed me the least attention.
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without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
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She laughed so easily when she was happy. But also when she was sad.
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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.
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A cliche is everything you've ever heard of.
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We have no home, she told me. I am your home.
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Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear. She put her own two fingers in her mouth. Im so sorry. And pulled the trigger
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A novel is like a dream in which everyone is you. They’re all parts of yourself.
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Depression, suffering and anger are all part of being human.
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They say drugs are not the answer, but really, what is the question?
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this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces
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A womans mistakes are different from a girls
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I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.
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My hatred gives me strength.
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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?
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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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Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.
Janet Fitch