When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things. Janet Fitch More Quotes by Janet Fitch More Quotes From Janet Fitch I took my mother's knife and played johnny johnny johnny on the playhouse floor. I was drunk, stabbed myself every few throws. I held my hand up and there was satisfaction at seeing my blood, the way there was when I saw the red gouges onmy face that people stared at and turned away. They were thinking I was beautiful, but they were wrong, now they could see how ugly and mutilated I was. Janet Fitch mother beautiful thinking Beauty was empty as a gourd, vain as a parakeet. But it had power. It smelled of musk and oranges and made you close your eyes in a prayer. Janet Fitch orange eye prayer ...The men eyed her with the automatic mix of curiosity, lust, and aesthetic judgment they always gave young women, subject to object, the way you'd stare at an animal. She pretended not to notice. To remind them she was a person was too much effort. Objects bore no guilt. Janet Fitch effort animal men Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky. Janet Fitch echoes drinking dream You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal. Janet Fitch every-second paid stealing her scruffy innoscense to impregnate with his dreams. reason was seductive, it gave the appearance of truth Janet Fitch seductive appearance dream this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces Janet Fitch pieces paper wonderful 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 wounded or mutilated. She could never shoot herself or jump off a building. But being dead wasn't unthinkable. Janet Fitch relief pain want history only existed in the human mind, subject to endless revision. 'each man kills the thing he loves'-Oscar Wilde. You kill it before it kills you, but he was wrong. you killed it by accident. thinking you were doing something else. shattering, when all you wanted to do was keep it safe. Janet Fitch mind men thinking They say drugs are not the answer, but really, what is the question? Janet Fitch drug answers He hated crowds, never liked punk. He couldn't handle the nakedness of the rage -his own so sophisticated and finely tuned. He could never see the similarity between himself and Donnie Draino screaming into a mic. Janet Fitch crowds punk rage at least if you were ignorant you could do wat you wanted. you had no idea wat had been acheived in the past. you were free instead of chewed at by bleeding impotence, dissolved away like a pearl in acid Janet Fitch ignorant past ideas These people picked you up and played with you and then left you lying in the rain Janet Fitch rain lying people She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing. Janet Fitch soul dark thinking Love could never bloom in a concrete block room. Janet Fitch concrete block rooms But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger. Janet Fitch denied danger people I nodded. A man's world. But what did it mean? That men whistled and stared and yelled things at you, and you had to take it, or you get raped or beat up? A man's world meant places men could go but not women. It meant they had more money,and didn't have kids, not the way women did, to look after every second. And it meant that women loved them more than they loved the women, that they could want something with all their hearts, and then not. Janet Fitch heart mean kids To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful. Janet Fitch eye made beautiful How can I shed tears for a man I should never have allowed to touch me in any way? Janet Fitch tears men way So much wanting and longing, clutching, desiring, passion and hatred and terrible need. Here, death was suitable, there was room for it, the grip of life's relentless urges slackened, replaced by this icy simplicity. This wasnt her death. It was his. That was the sad and honest truth. Though it would stay with her, it would be more like a black onyx heart on a silver chain, worn privately, under her clothes, close to her body, all her life. The guilt, the beauty, everything. It wasnt over, it had only begun. Well ok then, Okay. Janet Fitch clothes passion heart
