But I loved George in part because he believed me; because if I stood in a cold, plain room and yelled FIRE, he would walk over and ask me why.
AIMEE BENDERI peeled the skin off a grape in slippery little triangles, and I understood then that I would be undressing every item of food I could because my clothes would be staying on.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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With my hand in his, I looked at all the apartment buildings with rushes of love, peering in the wide streetside windows that revealed living rooms painted in dark burgandies and matte reds.
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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
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I am not happy, help me — like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.
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It was like we were exchanging codes, on how to be a father and a daughter, like we’d read about it in a manual, translated from another language, and were doing our best with what we could understand.
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While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
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Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.
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It seems the best work I do is when I am really allowing the unconscious to rule the page and then later I can go back and hack around and make sense of things.
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To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.
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It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
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That’s the thing with handmade items. They still have the person’s mark on them, and when you hold them, you feel less alone.
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Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
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I like birthday cake. It’s so symbolic. It’s a tempting symbol to load with something more complicated than just ‘Happy birthday!’ because it’s this emblem of childhood and a happy day.
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You try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
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I could feel the tears beginning to collect in my throat again, but I pushed them apart, away from each other. Tears are only a threat in groups.
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I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
AIMEE BENDER