Aimee Bender
Aimee Bender
Aimee Benderis an American novelist and short story writer, known for her surreal plots and characters...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth28 June 1969
CountryUnited States of America
taken fists paper
I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
birthday cake childhood
I like birthday cake. It's so symbolic. It's a tempting symbol to load with something more complicated than just 'Happy birthday!' because it's this emblem of childhood and a happy day.
life sadness loss
It is all about numbers. It is all about sequence. It's the mathematical logic of being alive. 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.
hands light self
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.
wine glasses red
The wine glasses are empty except for that one undrinkable red spot at the bottom.
believe passion thinking
But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think? Before she knew it was candles, did she think she'd done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips, and the warmth of the music inside her, did she believe, for even one glorious second, that her passion had arrived?
rope band stories
My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen." — Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)
girl perfect expect-nothing
You're the perfect girl', he said, rubbing his chin. 'You expect nothing.
mother children thinking
Sometimes, she said, mostly to herself, I feel I do not know my children... 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. That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.
dark hands rooms
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.
ideas mind trying
I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
kissing years littles
…kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
gratitude someone-you-love barometer
To see someone you love, in a bad setting, is one of the great barometers of gratitude.
doritos great-gifts asks
...a Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.