Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
AIMEE BENDERA Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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I want to be violated by insight.
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My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.
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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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Glen Hirshberg’s stories are haunting, absolutely, but not only because of the content.
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I was right at the edge of their circle, like the tail of a Q…
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Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
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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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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
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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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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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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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When language is treated beautifully and interestingly, it can feel good for the body: It’s nourishing; it’s rejuvenating.
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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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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.
AIMEE BENDER