Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine: Debut Sunday Times Bestseller and Costa First Novel Book Award winner

Sometimes, when you tried to help with suggestions, it could lead to misunderstandings, not all of them entirely pleasant.

Everything took so long. Before, I’d simply bathed, run a comb through my hair and pulled on my trousers. Being feminine apparently meant taking an eternity to do anything, and involved quite a bit of advanced planning. I couldn’t imagine how it would be possible to hike to the source of the Nile, or to climb up a ladder to investigate a malfunctio

I wondered how it would feel to perform such simple deeds for other people. I

I’m certain that they merely served to alienate the majority of us from physical activity for life.

I feel sorry for beautiful people. Beauty, from the moment you possess it, is already slipping away, ephemeral. That must be difficult. Always having to prove that there’s more to you, wanting people to see beneath the surface, to be loved for yourself, and not your stunning body, sparkling eyes or thick, lustrous hair.

How might one introduce luxury and pampering into the process of shaping and painting a nail? It was, literally, beyond my imagining.

And if a woman who’s wholly alone occasionally talks to a pot plant, is she certifiable?

sybaritic

epistolary level.