I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
AIMEE BENDERIt 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.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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The wine glasses are empty except for that one undrinkable red spot at the bottom.
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We’re all getting too smart. Our brains are just getting bigger and bigger, and the world dries up and dies when there’s too much thought and not enough heart.
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While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
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I 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.
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It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.
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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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You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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I have had with novel writing, and I have put to bed big chunks of work that just didn’t sustain my interest.
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When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.
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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 was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
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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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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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As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake.
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You try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
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Many kids, it seemed, would find out that their parents were flawed, messed-up people later in life, and I didn’t appreciate getting to know it all so strong and early.
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But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
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You feel wonderful, you feel like somebody knows you’re alive, you feel fear because it could be a bomb, because you think you’re that important.
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A Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.
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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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To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.
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I want to be violated by insight.
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I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
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It is all about numbers. It is all about sequence. It’s the mathematical logic of being alive.
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If everything kept to its normal progression, we would live with the sadness-cry and then walk-but what really breaks us cleanest are the losses that happen out of order.
AIMEE BENDER