Janet Fitch Quotes

Inside every human being, there is unlimited time and space.

When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things.

I'm always looking for something new and interesting to say. And it can't be something I'm directly experiencing.

When I start writing, my unconscious, my conflicts, my thoughts all start to come up. So for me, writing is an exploration. I never know how my stories will end.

I use my fiction to explore my own unconscious issues. I usually don't even know what's going on with me until I'm writing.

Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.

And if there is no god?You act as if there is, and it's the same thing.

Always learn poems by heart, ' she said. 'They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.

Just a beginner, but he learned so fast. Everything came so damn easy to him. Not true. The hard things cam easy. But the easy things he found impossibly hard.

This was how girls left. They packed up their suitcases and walked away in high heels. They pretended they weren't crying, that it wasn't the worst day of their lives.

I hated labels anyway. People didn’t fit in slots—prostitute, housewife, saint—like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.

I wanted to tell her not to entertain despair like this. Despair wasn't a guest, you didn't play its favourite music, find it a comfortable chair. Despair was the enemy.

I hadn’t understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why.Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my pastwas my life.

Never let a man stay the night. Dawn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.

don't sulk. you're acting just like a man.

Men... No matter how unappealing, each of them imagines he is somehow worthy.

She’s never where she is, ' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.

Loneliness ia a human condition

The phoenix must burn to emerge

Love humiliates you, hatred cradles you.

Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after

For lunch, we drove into the hills and parked in the dappled shade of a big sycamore, its powdery white bark like a woman's body against the uncanny blue sky.

Do you ever want to go home?' I asked Paul.He brushed an ash from my face. 'It's the century of the displaced person, ' he said. 'You can never go home.

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched....

I wanted to tell her not to entertain despair like this. Despaire wasn't a guest, you didn't play its favorite music, find it a comfortable chair. Despair was the enemy."-white oleander

The moon rose, squatting in the strained blue.

don't turn over rocks if you don't want to see the pale creatures who live underneath them.

Don't turn over rocks if you don't want to see the pale creatures who live under them.

My heart felt like a balloon that was filling too full, and I panicked. I might get the bends, the way scuba divers did when they surfaced too fast.

Now it seemed unbelievable, the innocence of a girl in a fairy tale.

Marvel hates her because she's pretty and doesn't have any kids to worry about.

I always read poetry before I write, to sensitize me to the rhythms and music of language.