Status Updates From Unexplained Laughter

Women's magazines had a lot to answer for, thought Lydia, with their embroidered jumpers, their mackerel and mandarin oranges, their stories of the nurse who gets the surgeon, the typist who gets the boss, contrasting so starkly with the bewildered anguish manifested by their love-ruined readers on the letters page. (p. 55)

'Where do you come from?' asked Betty with an eye on Lydia.
'We came from the North,' said Mrs Molesworth, making herself sound like a Viking horde. 'We used to holiday here and we always promised ourselves we'd live here one day.'
'How lovely,' said Betty inadequately. (p. 46-47)

Currently re-reading Unexplained Laughter, which I first read in 2016

spiky

”here was another ludicrous irony: the less you were in love with someone the more you could enchant and ensnare them. You could behave like a pig and they would simply think how sweet and original you were, whereas if you were wildly in love you would be on your best behaviour, nervously uncertain and consequently lacking in charm. It was all down to confidence...”

I read more late in the night and awoke feeling like a child smiling at the sky. It's dark, sarcastic, and hilarious.

Fantastic adjectives.