While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
AIMEE BENDERYou can ruin anything if you focus at it.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.
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Language is the ticket to plot and character, after all, because both are built out of language.
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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 don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
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We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.
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Before she knew it was candles, did she think she’d done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips.
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Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
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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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Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
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I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
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I admired that stride; it was like he folded space in two with it.
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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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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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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.
AIMEE BENDER