Janet Fitch Quotes - Page 7

Quotes about:

• That kind of tenderness couldn't be permitted to last. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like the guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.

  Janet Fitch

  Fire, Rocks, Eagles

  Janet Fitch (2013). “Paint It Black”, p.141, Hachette UK

  4 Copy quote

• But that was the thing about zero. Its weakness. Even if zero had taken over the entire universe, the biggest fascist of all, one tiny gesture could deny it. One footprint, one atom. You didn't have to be a genius. You didn't even have to know that was what you were doing. You made a mark. You changed something. It said, "A human being passed here." And changed zero to one.

  Janet Fitch

  Zero, Taken, Weakness

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• Wasn't that the way it always was? You didn't know, you couldn't tell, you just let it happen... Perhaps they didn't know themselves. Sometimes the line was very fine.

  Janet Fitch

  Lines, Way, Sometimes

  Janet Fitch (2006). “Paint It Black: A Novel”, p.84, Hachette UK

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• At every moment, each instrument knew what to play. Its little bit. But none could see the whole thing like this, all at once, only its own part. Just like life. Each person was like a line of music, but nobody knew what the symphony sounded like. Only the conductor had the whole score.

  Janet Fitch

  Play, Symphony, Lines

  4 Copy quote

• They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.

  Janet Fitch

  Dream, Men, Hands

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

  9 Copy quote

• 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

  Janet Fitch

  Play, White, Enemy

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• It's their skins I'm peeling," she said. "The skins of the insipid scribblers, which I graft to the page, creating monsters of meaninglessness.

  Janet Fitch

  Creating, Skins, Monsters

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• If sinners where so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I?

  Janet Fitch

  Suffering, Unhappy, Ifs

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.187, Hachette UK

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• And I thought, there was no God, there was only what you wanted.

  Janet Fitch

  Wanted

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.63, Hachette UK

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• I almost said, you're not broken, you're just going through something. But i couldn't. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn't worked.

  Janet Fitch

  Numbness, Broken, Way

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.174, Hachette UK

  10 Copy quote

• Love is a check, that can be forged, that can be cashed. Love is a payment that comes due.

  Janet Fitch

  Love Is, Checks, Payment

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• When you started thinking it was easy, you were forgetting what it cost.

  Janet Fitch

  Thinking, Cost, Oleanders

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

  6 Copy quote

• I imagined my soul taking in these words like silicated water in the Petrified Forest, turning my wood to patterned agate. I liked it when my mother shaped me this way. I thought clay must feel happy in the good potter's hand.

  Janet Fitch

  Mother, Hands, Water

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

  4 Copy quote

• A novel is like a dream in which everyone is you. They’re all parts of yourself.

  Janet Fitch

  Dream, Novel

  4 Copy quote

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

  Janet Fitch

  Rocks, Want, Oleanders

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• 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 to that?

  Janet Fitch

  Blue, Sky, Silence

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• I could hear the icy winds of Sweden, but he didn't seem to feel the chill.

  Janet Fitch

  Wind, Icy, Sweden

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.13, Hachette UK

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• He reminded me of someone who put your fingers in the door and smiled and talked to you while he smashed them.

  Janet Fitch

  Doors, Fingers

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

  4 Copy quote

• I wandered through the stacks, running my hands along the spines of the books on the shelves, they reminded me of cultured or opinionated guests at a wonderful party, whispering to each other.

  Janet Fitch

  Running, Party, Book

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.82, Hachette UK

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• One can bear anything. The pain we cannot bear will kill us outright.

  Janet Fitch

  Pain, Bears

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• The writer is both a sadist and a masochist. We create people we love, and then we torture them. The more we love them, and the more cleverly we torture them along the lines of their greatest vulnerability and fear, the better the story. Sometimes we try to protect them from getting booboos that are too big. Don’t. This is your protagonist, not your kid.

  Janet Fitch

  Kids, People, Trying

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• she’s not as pretty as you,” I said “But she’s a simpler girl,” my mother whispered.

  Janet Fitch

  Girl, Mother, Said

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.22, Hachette UK

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• What was beauty unless you intended to use it, like a hammer, or a key? It was just something for other people to use and admire, or envy, despise. To nail their dreams onto like a picture hanger on a blank wall. And so many girls saying, use me, dream me.

  Janet Fitch

  Beauty, Girl, Dream

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.184, Hachette UK

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• I was always mortified.Didn't they know they were tying thier mothers to the ground? Weren't chains ashamed of their prisoners?

  Janet Fitch

  Mother, Chains, Ashamed

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• It's not that he was going nowhere, it's that he'd already arrived.

  Janet Fitch

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.255, Hachette UK

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