My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDERMy eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
AIMEE BENDERI was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
AIMEE BENDERMany 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.
AIMEE BENDERI give boring people something to discuss over corn.
AIMEE BENDERBut what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
AIMEE BENDERMy genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.” – Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)
AIMEE BENDERI am the drying meadow; you the unspoken apology; he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son.
AIMEE BENDERI was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
AIMEE BENDERWhen language is treated beautifully and interestingly, it can feel good for the body: It’s nourishing; it’s rejuvenating.
AIMEE BENDERBut 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’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
AIMEE BENDERI admired that stride; it was like he folded space in two with it.
AIMEE BENDERListen. 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 BENDERIt is all about numbers. It is all about sequence. It’s the mathematical logic of being alive.
AIMEE BENDERYou can ruin anything if you focus at it.
AIMEE BENDERI felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
AIMEE BENDER