Glen Hirshberg’s stories are haunting, absolutely, but not only because of the content.
AIMEE BENDERBefore she knew it was candles, did she think she’d done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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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.
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I was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
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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 don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
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Light is good company, when alone; I took my comfort where I found it, and the warmest yellow bulb in the living-room lamp had become a kind of radiant babysitter all its own.
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Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
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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 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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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.
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It is so often surprising, who rescues you at your lowest moments.
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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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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’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
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As soon as you laugh from nerves or make a joke or say something just to say something or get all involved with the bushes, then you blow open a window in your house of desire and it can’t heat up as well. Cold draft comes in.
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There’s a gift in your lap and it’s beautifully wrapped and it’s not your birthday.
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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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You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
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You try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
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That at the same time of this very intimate act of concentrating so carefully on the details of our mother’s palm and fingertips.
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It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
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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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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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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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I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
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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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I knew if I ate anything of hers again, it would lkely tell me the same message: help me,
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