In a train...smash. In his arm her last...breath.' He had loved her. B…

Janet Fitch
171 citations
In a train...smash. In his arm her last...breath.' He had loved her. But he hated himself more. Such suffering, so much pain. And he thought it made him hateful. As if suffering was shameful, disgusting, as if pain were a crime. Who can judge another man's suffering?
Love Sadness Thought
32

More Author Quotes

She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would … ▶
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. thi … ▶
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.
But I knew one more thing. That people w ho denied who they were or where they had been were in the greatest danger.
What was the point in such loneliness among people. At least if you were by yourself, you had a good reason to be lonely. ✨ Janet Fitch (2013). White Oleander, p.83, Hachette UK

In a train...smash. In his arm her last...breath.' He had loved her. But he hated himself more. Such suffering, so much pain. And he thought it made him hateful. As if suffering was shameful, disgusting, as if pain were a crime. Who can judge another man's suffering?

More Author Quotes

Most Cited Authors

The Best Quotes

Most Liked Authors

Curated Author Quotes