Two is a couple. In this country, if you are not part of a couple, you are considered incomplete, fragmented, unfulfilled. Other countries don’t have this counting system quite so firmly embedded in their national psyche—one can be a solitary bachelor, or one of a large extended family and quite properly so.

Yes, the command to unite and procreate is strong in all cultures (as it is in nature), but ours takes it to an extreme, especially if you are a woman. If you don’t believe me, try going out to dinner alone, to a concert with a single ticket, a movie by yourself. The unspoken message is, “What’s wrong with you?” Or, alternatively, “You must need some company/sex.” When all you wanted was something to eat.

Two is a bicycle. Two spoked wheels go round and round, moving feet don’t touch the ground. Except when you stop.

Are you number two? You try harder. In our competitive culture, being number two is unacceptable.

Version 2.0 usually has the worst of the program bugs fixed.

A ‘two-fer’ is a great bargain, except when it’s something you don’t need and won’t use.

Two for Joy by Mary Reed and Eric Mayer is another fine reading experience.

Yin and Yang are two, yet one.