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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.
Janet Fitch
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Janet Fitch
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: November 9
Author
Journalist
Novelist
University Teacher
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LA
California
Janet Elizabeth Fitch
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Floor
Connected
Identity
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Personal
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Lives
Identities
More quotes by 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
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.
Janet Fitch
I wandered through the stacks, running my hands along the spines of the books on the shelves, they reminded me of cultured or opinionated guests at a wonderful party, whispering to each other.
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
Women always put men first. That's how everything got so screwed up.
Janet Fitch
I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.
Janet Fitch
she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.
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
No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.
Janet Fitch
What happened to a dream without a dreamer?
Janet Fitch
Dawn tinted the darkness like water ink.
Janet Fitch
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
I wanted to hear what she was saying. I wanted to smell that burnt midnight again, I wanted to feel that wind. It was a secret wanting, like a song I couldn't stop humming, or loving someone I could never have. No matter where I went, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.
Janet Fitch
without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.
Janet Fitch
She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.
Janet Fitch
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
Take my advice. Stay away from all broken people.
Janet Fitch
My hatred gives me strength.
Janet Fitch
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
Janet Fitch
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
Janet Fitch
