“The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shriveling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders thrived, their delicate poisonous blooms, their dagger green leaves.” — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
“If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
“Things weren’t real to you. They were just raw material for you to reshape to tell a story you liked better. You could never… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
“The people who denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger. They were blind sleepwalkers on tightropes, fingers… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
There is nothing to be done. Just make sure nothing is wasted. Take notes. Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
“The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shriveling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
I know it feels like you have all these options and when you make a decision, you lose a world of possibilities. But the… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
“Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like Fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious… — Janet Finch Copy Share Image
