I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
AIMEE BENDERYou’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
-
-
It’s such a fraught and exciting and kind of horrible time.
AIMEE BENDER -
But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
AIMEE BENDER -
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 -
We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.
AIMEE BENDER -
You’re the perfect girl’, he said, rubbing his chin. ‘You expect nothing.
AIMEE BENDER -
There’s a gift in your lap and it’s beautifully wrapped and it’s not your birthday.
AIMEE BENDER -
I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
AIMEE BENDER -
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.
AIMEE BENDER -
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 -
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.
AIMEE BENDER -
I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
AIMEE BENDER -
The writing I tend to think of as ‘good’ is good because it’s mysterious.
AIMEE BENDER -
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.
AIMEE BENDER -
You try, you seem totally nuts, you go underground.
AIMEE BENDER -
I am the drying meadow; you the unspoken apology; he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son.
AIMEE BENDER