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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.
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
Love
Minds
Tired
Standing
Close
Changed
Made
Mind
Doorways
Men
Hanging
More quotes by Janet Fitch
Memory is the fourth dimension to any landscape.
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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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I was always mortified.Didn't they know they were tying thier mothers to the ground? Weren't chains ashamed of their prisoners?
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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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Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.
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What is real is always worth it.
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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?
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I imagined my soul taking in these words like silicated water in the Petrified Forest, turning my wood to patterned agate. I liked it when my mother shaped me this way. I thought clay must feel happy in the good potter's hand.
Janet Fitch
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
I wondered where he was now whether I would ever hear him again. Whether someone would love him, someday show him what beauty mean't.
Janet Fitch
They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.
Janet Fitch
You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.
Janet Fitch
Don't hoard the past. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.
Janet Fitch
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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Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.
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What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?
Janet Fitch
I'm a fish swimming by...catch me if you want me.
Janet Fitch
I've been depressed many times in my life. But under it all I'm an optimist.
Janet Fitch
How easy I was. Like a limpet I attached myself to anything, anyone who showed me the least attention.
Janet Fitch
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
