This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“The damned could be saved, he said, anytime. But they refused to give up their sins. Though they suffered endlessly, they would… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
The writer is both a sadist and a masochist. We create people we love, and then we torture them. The more we… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Love is a check, that can be forged, that can be cashed. Love is a payment that comes due. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Isn't it funny.I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than i ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Reading LOVE JUNKIE is like watching a sleepwalker taking a stroll on a freeway. All you can do is pray. Gorgeously written,… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“love is temperamental. tiring. it makes demands. love uses you. changes its mind.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over Echo Park, stopping to visit the lotus. They weren't going to be like everyone else,… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Love's an illusion. It's a dream you wake up from with an enormous hangover and net credit debt. I'd rather have cash. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that's something you can use. Sculpt.… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Isn't it funny. I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands.… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“The damned could be saved...anytime. But they refused to give up their sins. Though they suffered endlessly, they would not give them… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“for she is my love, and other women are but big bodies of flame. who in the world would have thot of… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“He'd loved her, he had. And he knew she loved him, he knew it! But it wasn't enough. She couldn't have imagined… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
How could anybody confuse truth with beauty, I thought as I looked at him. Truth came with sunken eyes, bony or scarred, decayed. Its… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I love Derrick Brown for the surprise of one word waking up next to another. One moment tender, funny or romantic, the next, visceral,… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“That fucking crow-bodied thing had won. How gleeful it was now. All because he'd wanted to live, forget genius and destiny, and simply be… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
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… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
When most people looked at Josie Tyrell, they only saw a certain collection of bones, a selection of forms filling space. But Michael saw… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“They can't touch us. We're the Vikings. We go into battle without armor for the flush and the blood of it.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“But I knew one more thing. That people who denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind's destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race. Three… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
This is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“If I were a poet, that’s what I’d write about. People who worked in the middle of the night. Men who loaded trains, emergency… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“what was the point in creating something that was so futile and so precious? everything beautiful was like that. a little bit of the… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
