“I spin around on the swivel chair and look up at the ceiling; Oliver being Oliver being Oliver being Oliver. I am suddenly aware of the separation between my-actual-self and myself-as-seen-by-others. Who would win in an arm wrestle? Who is better-looking? Who has the higher IQ?”
“Knock, Knock.""Who's there?""Olive.""Olive who?""Olive...ooh. I love you, too," he said, figuring it out. "You can tell me that one anytime you like." He folded her into his arms.”
“That's silly, Anna," said the Honorable Olive. "Being afraid is silly, you know it is.”
“At that moment, Oliver realized that home is not a place, but rather, the people who love you.”
“They can do without architecture who have no olives nor wines in the cellar”
“Oliver . . . well. Who knew if Oliver’s problem was the disease or just a bad attitude?”