The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.
AIMEE BENDERShe 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.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
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You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
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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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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
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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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Many 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.
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It’s such a fraught and exciting and kind of horrible time.
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You feel wonderful, you feel like somebody knows you’re alive, you feel fear because it could be a bomb, because you think you’re that important.
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It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.
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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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He was also removing all traces of any tiny leftover parts, and suddenly a ritual which I’d always found incestuous and gross seemed to me more like a desperate act on Joseph’s part to get out, to leave, to extract every little last remnant and bring it into open air.
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And the warmth of the music inside her, did she believe, for even one glorious second, that her passion had arrived?
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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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Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
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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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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 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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There’s a gift in your lap and it’s beautifully wrapped and it’s not your birthday.
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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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Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
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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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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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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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To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.
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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 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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