Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine

by Gail Honeyman

Mummy told me, years ago, that men go absolutely crazy for sausage rolls.

If I’m ever unsure as to the correct course of action, I’ll think, “What would a ferret do?” or, “How would a salamander respond to this situation?”

You can’t have too much dog in a book.

The thought of malleable confectionery, warmed to body temperature on Sammy’s groin (albeit encased in flannel pajamas and a blanket) was repellent.

Although it’s good to try new things and to keep an open mind, it’s also extremely important to stay true to who you really are. I read that in a magazine at the hairdressers.

I was ready. Bring out your dead.

Being feminine apparently meant taking an eternity to do anything, and involved quite a bit of advanced planning.

I’m not sure I’d like to be burned. I think I might like to be fed to zoo animals. It would be both environmentally friendly and a lovely treat for the larger carnivores. Could you request that?

Grief is the price we pay for love, so they say. The price is far too high.

“Jesus Christ!” a man’s voice said. “Eleanor Oliphant,” I replied.

someone or something had turned vodka into water. This was not my preferred kind of miracle.

libraries are life-enhancing palaces of wonder.

when you took a moment to see what was around you, noticed all the little things, it made you feel . . . lighter.

I have always lived in urban areas, but I feel the need for green as a visceral longing.

Your voice changes when you’re smiling, it alters the sound somehow.