Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.
AIMEE BENDERMy eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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She is the first gesture that creates a quiet that is full enough to make the baby sleep. My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.
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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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While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
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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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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
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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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It is so often surprising, who rescues you at your lowest moments.
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It was a fleeting statement, one I didn’t think she’d hold on to; after all, she had birthed us alone, diapered and fed us, helped us with homework, kissed and hugged us, poured her love into us.
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Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
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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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Pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter; Joseph was her it.
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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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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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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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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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