Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I felt beautiful but also interrupted. I wasn't used to being so complicated. — Janet Fitch Beautiful Copy Share Image
“you ever wonder why people get out of bed in the morning? why do they bother? why not just drink turpentine?” — Janet Fitch Life Copy Share Image
When you started thinking it was easy, you were forgetting what it cost. — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“He just wanted to stand close to her, touch her hair that was white as glacier milk...” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“For lunch, we drove into the hills and parked in the dappled shade of a big sycamore, its powdery white bark like… — Janet Fitch Blue sky Copy Share Image
Do you ever want to go home?' I asked Paul. He brushed an ash from my face. 'It's the century of the… — Janet Fitch Ashes Copy Share Image
“Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear.” — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
I'm incredibly restless. I read a lot of poetry. I also find myself reading the first 20 pages of everything, looking for… — Janet Fitch Book Copy Share Image
“It was a shrine. Josie hadn't thought to do that. She had no shrine, no candles. She only knew how to kill… — Janet Fitch Heart 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 Blue sky Copy Share Image
“Mother prescribing her books like medicines. A good dose of Whitman would set me straight, like castor oil. But at least she… — Janet Fitch Books Copy Share Image
“Knew what it was to loose him. That specific being. that unique and miraculous collision of biology and history, spirit and matter.” — Janet Fitch Biology 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 Brass Copy Share Image
Aquamarines grew with emeralds, Claire told me. But emeralds were fragile and always broke into smaller pieces, while aquamarines were stronger, grew… — 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,… — Janet Fitch Beauty Copy Share Image
I watched her for a long time, memorizing her shoulders, her long-legged gait. This was how girls left. They packed up their… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Especially the first one I thought it explained their relationship. At several points at the beginning of the story I wondered how… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
It wasn't awful to be dead. The stillness would almost be a relief. She wouldn't want pain, she wouldn't want to be… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“I felt like an Israeli girl soldier, in shorts and the hot wind, sighting down the barrel of the rifle, holding the… — Janet Fitch Strange feeling Copy Share Image
There used to be a category called women's fiction - meaning not too rude, not too much sex, a bit domestic and… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“Her voice was trained, supple as leather, precise as a knife thrower's blade. Singing or talking, it had the same graceful quality,… — 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… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“I didn't tell her about the free-for-alls on the school yard, muggings on the bus. A girl burned a cigarette hole in… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“At night she began cooking things in the kitchen, things too strange to mention. She steeped oleander in boiling water, and the… — Janet Fitch Gardening Copy Share Image
“Who can know God's intentions? Who can know Hid Mind?" She looked at the coffin, lying there like a giant question mark.… — Janet Fitch End of the day Copy Share Image
“I regret nothing. No woman with any self-respect would have done less. The question of good and evil will always be one… — Janet Fitch Evil Copy Share Image
“The expression in her eyes was bitter as nightshade. 'You ask me about regret? Let me tell you a few things about… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
“But then I realized, they didn't mean their own mothers. Not those weak women, those victims. Drug addicts, shopaholics, cookie bakers. They… — Janet Fitch Copy Share Image
