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.
AIMEE BENDERHe 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.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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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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Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
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Large meadows are lovely for picnics and romping, but they are for the lighter feelings. Meadows do not make me want to write.
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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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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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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 try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
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Not getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
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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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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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and I get refill number three or four and the wine is making my bones loose and it’s giving my hair a red sheen and my breasts are blooming and my eyes feel sultry and wise and the dress is water.
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Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children…
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I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
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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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This is why everyone who eats a Whopper leaves a little more depressed than they were when they came in. Nobody cooked that burger.
AIMEE BENDER