“He is my first olive: let me make a face while I swallow it.”

“Robbie Oliver could call me Pooey-Poo-Poo Smelly Face if he wanted to.”

“Let me, O let me bathe my soul in colours; let me swallow the sunset and drink the rainbow.”

“It is strange,' pursued he, 'that while I love Rosomond Oliver so wildly-with all the intensity, indeed, of a first passion, the object of which is exquisitely beautiful, graceful, and fascinating--I experience at the same time a calm, unwarped consciousness, that she would not make me a good wife; that she is not the partner suited to me; that I should discover this within a year after marriage; and that to twelve months' rapture would succeed a lifetime of regret. This I know.”

“He looked up at me without saying a word. I tried to hold it together but I could feel myself breaking as I fell to the floor, my face in my hands – tears flowing down my cheeks. For the first time in a while I felt like I was truly losing a hold of myself.”

“Excuse me while I go bleach my face.”