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Quote by Janet Fitch

Work

White Oleander

White Oleander is a work of fiction that follows the life of Astrid Magnussen, a girl whose mother, Ingrid, is a brilliant but narcissistic poet. After Ingrid is sentenced to prison for murder, Astrid is placed into a series of foster homes across Southern California. Each home presents a different set of challenges and influences, shaping Astrid's identity as she grows from a child into a young woman. The narrative explores themes of resilience, the search for belonging, and the powerful, often destructive, bond between mother and daughter. The title refers to a poisonous flowering shrub, serving as a metaphor for Ingrid's beautiful yet dangerous influence on her daughter's life. more

Author

Janet Fitch
Janet Fitch

Janet Fitch is a renowned American contemporary author, born on November 9, 1955, in California. Her works are known for their profound character development and unique narrative style, with notable titles including 'The Geeks' and 'Paint It Black'. more

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“She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.”

“Don't you see? We've become smart enough to justify stupid behavior. Like, 'I'm angry at him and I didn't express it, so I turned my anger inward and now it's depression, so in order to feel good again, what I should do is call him and express my anger.' It's like, if we can make it sound smart enough, we're allowed to do stupid things.”

“You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I? I mean it was careless of me to makes such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person I thought it was your secret pride." "I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor." She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.”