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.
AIMEE BENDERI felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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It is all about numbers. It is all about sequence. It’s the mathematical logic of being alive.
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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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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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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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I knew if I ate anything of hers again, it would lkely tell me the same message: help me,
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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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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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I admired that stride; it was like he folded space in two with it.
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You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
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It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.
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It was like we were exchanging codes, on how to be a father and a daughter, like we’d read about it in a manual, translated from another language, and were doing our best with what we could understand.
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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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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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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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I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
AIMEE BENDER