Listen. Look. Desire is a house. Desire needs closed space. Desire runs out of doors or windows, or slats or pinpricks, it can’t fit under the sky, too large. Close the doors. Close the windows.
AIMEE BENDERI’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
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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It’s such a fraught and exciting and kind of horrible time.
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My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.” – Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)
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The stories themselves haunt, they stick around, they linger, inhabiting a little corner of the reader’s brain and resurfacing to evoke mystery or sadness or longing.
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I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
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He was also removing all traces of any tiny leftover parts, and suddenly a ritual which I’d always found incestuous and gross seemed to me more like a desperate act on Joseph’s part to get out, to leave, to extract every little last remnant and bring it into open air.
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I want to be violated by insight.
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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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and I get refill number three or four and the wine is making my bones loose and it’s giving my hair a red sheen and my breasts are blooming and my eyes feel sultry and wise and the dress is water.
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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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I am the drying meadow; you the unspoken apology; he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son.
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I was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
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I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
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I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
AIMEE BENDER