You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch...someone whoes fingers are a poem.
Janet Fitch
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I thought of my mother as Queen Christina cool and sad eyes trained on some distant horizon. That was where she belonged in furs and palaces of rare treasures fireplaces large enough to roast a reindeer ships of Swedish maple.
- Janet Fitch -
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A womans mistakes are different from a girls
- Janet Fitch