Where Would The Irish Be Without Someone

[a Writer] Should Try Not To Be Too Far, Personally, Below The Level Of His Work.

At The Age Of Twelve I Was Finding The World Too Small: It Appeared To Me Like A Dull, Trim Back Garden, In Which Only Trivial Games Could Be Played.

I Became, And Remain, My Characters' Close And Intent Watcher: Their Director, Never. Their Creator I Cannot Feel That I Was, Or Am.

Nothing, That Is Say No One, Can Be Such An Inexorable Tour-conductor As One's Own Conscience Or Sense Of Duty, If One Allows Either The Upper Hand: The Self-bullying That Goes On In The Name Of Sight-seeing Is Grievous.

Nobody Speaks The Truth When There's Something They Must Have.