“Oh God, Oh God we’re all gonna die doesn’t really fit the definition of banter, now does it?”
“Oh, god,” I said. “Sorry, sorry. Do I die now?”--Sadie to Zia”
“Oh my God!" a woman whispered loudly. "They're gonna do it on the front lawn!”
“Oh my God, is it really the womens'? Sorry...”
“Oh my God" ..."Not sure he really exists”
“Oh God, now she couldn’t remember why she’d ever left him. She needed him. More than air or sunlight and beaches, definitely more than garlic.”