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.
AIMEE BENDERThe most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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I have had with novel writing, and I have put to bed big chunks of work that just didn’t sustain my interest.
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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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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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It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
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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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The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.
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I admired that stride; it was like he folded space in two with it.
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I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
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It seems the best work I do is when I am really allowing the unconscious to rule the page and then later I can go back and hack around and make sense of things.
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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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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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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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Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
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The writing I tend to think of as ‘good’ is good because it’s mysterious.
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The wine glasses are empty except for that one undrinkable red spot at the bottom.
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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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You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
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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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I could feel the tears beginning to collect in my throat again, but I pushed them apart, away from each other. Tears are only a threat in groups.
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I am not happy, help me — like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.
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But the sky is interesting, it changes all the time.
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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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But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
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Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
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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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You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
AIMEE BENDER