“love is temperamental. tiring. it makes demands. love uses you. changes its mind.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“I know what you are learning to endure. There is nothing to be done. Make sure nothing is wasted. Take notes. Remember… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“the gamelan created in the listener a brain wave beyond all alphas and betas and thetas, a brain wave that paralyzed the… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Just make sure nothing is wasted. Take notes. Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your… — 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
history only existed in the human mind, subject to endless revision. 'each man kills the thing he loves'-Oscar Wilde. You kill it… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Remember it all, every insult, every tear. Tattoo it on the inside of your mind. In life, knowledge of poisons is essential.… — 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
I imagined Kandinsky's mind, spread out all over the world, and then gathered together. Everyone having only a piece of the puzzle.… — 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 past the mouth and the eyes, the architecture of the body, her fleshly masquerade. Other boys were happy enough to enjoy the show, they just wanted to be entertained in the body's shadow theater. But Michael… — Janet Fitch Copy Share
“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 room nurses with their gentle hands. Night clerks in hotels, cabdrivers on graveyard, waitresses in all-night coffee shops. They knew the world, how precious it was when a person remembered your name, the comfort of a… — Janet Fitch Copy Share
“what was the point in creating something that was so futile and so precious? everything beautiful was like that. a little bit of the true world. beauty said there was something more than just one fucking thing after another. time could rest for a moment, stop and that senseless motion. people thot beauty was bullshit, just a bandaide slapped over… — Janet Fitch Copy Share
