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Quote by Abigail C. Edwards

“He swirled his drink and stared off into the crowd, terribly satisfied. “Have you ever seen a face so weirdly symmetrical? Put our man Luca Catenacci on a poster for…Sicilian cologne. Those genes? With the whole Vitelli-Marzano thing you’ve got going?” He issued a low whistle. “Unstoppable.”

Quote by Abigail C. Edwards

Book:And We All Bled Oil

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And We All Bled Oil

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Abigail C. Edwards

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“I thought about the fruit of ancient tradition, oil like blood, and suddenly I realized that if olive oil was sacred, then this was sacrilegious.”

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“Hey, I didn’t realize you had more than one friend. Brava, brava, bravissima.” “Eat your heart out, Tonio.”

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“No offense,” said Tonio, in a way that suggested he hoped we took full offense, “but you two are the last people I’d accept lifestyle advice from.”

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“It is singularity which often makes the worst part of our suffering, as it always does of our conduct.”

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“Blood and oil. It’s on both our hands.”

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“What would you do for your family?” Savino asks. “How far would you go?” Because he’s done more. He’s spilled oil and blood for this family, and sometimes I wonder if they aren’t the same thing.”

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“Massimo’s a grenade,” she said. “You throw it. Then you run.”

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“He had the sleeves rolled up on his bathrobe, and it was a fairly jarring, chaotic picture he painted, yet somehow he made it seem lazily elegant. Like a sculptor shaping a lump of clay with muddy hands, like feeling along the edges of rolled-out pastry dough to check its thickness, or scoring a flour-dusted bâtard—something weirdly bold and confident about it. The seductive art of Nutella, as taught by one Tonio Salone. Unnerving.”

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“You’re a Marzano, that’s enough. You are testament to a union made decades ago, between Vitellis in Brooklyn and Marzanos in Sicily. For over twenty years, we’ve done what we could to keep that tie strong. We’ve made sacrifices.” The fire popped behind him, but he didn’t flinch. “What would you do for your family, Pia?”

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“I thought about olive oil, about the sacred depravity. I thought about how oil meant power, and how Savino Vitelli was testament to that—he was untouchable, ancient, godlike, and olive oil had made him that way, much as it had made Odysseus something more than a mere mortal. It elevated. And I wondered, if I let it, if olive oil would do the same for me.”

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