I wanted to hear what she was saying. I wanted to smell that burnt midnight again, I wanted to feel that wind.… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
Appealing to the five senses is the feature that will always set writing apart from the visual media. A good writer will… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
...I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, their smell of beer or fifteen-year-old whiskey. Men who didn't come… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I think we're starved for a life of the senses. We're in the garage, we're in the car, we drive to work,… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“We parked in back and walked down the stairs with their polished brass railings, past the old-fashioned kitchen. We could see the… — 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
