They All Went Into The Bar Business.

When I Look Back On My Childhood I Wonder How I Survived At All. It Was, Of Course, A Miserable Childhood: The Happy Childhood Is Hardly Worth Your While. Worse Than The Ordinary Miserable Childhood Is The Miserable Irish Childhood, And Worse Yet Is The Miserable Irish Catholic Childhood.

People Everywhere Brag And Whimper About The Woes Of Their Early Years, But Nothing Can Compare With The Irish Version: The Poverty; The Shiftless Loquacious Father; The Pious Defeated Mother Moaning By The Fire; Pompous Priests; Bullying School Masters; The English And The Terrible Things They Did To Us For Eight Hundred Long Years. Above All -- We Were Wet.

There's Nothing Sillier In The World Than A Teacher Telling You Don't Do It After You Already Did It.

A Mother's Love Is A Blessing No Matter Where You Roam. Keep Her While You Have Her, You'll Miss Her When She's Gone -- Angela's Ashes.

I Admire Certain Priests And Nuns Who Go Off On Their Own And Do God's Work On Their Own, Who Help In The Ghettos, But As Far As The Institution Of The Church Is Concerned, I Think It Is Despicable.