People Are Good Or Half

It Is Not Fashionable Anymore, I Suppose, To Have A Regard For One's Mother In The Way My Brother And I Had Then, In The Mid-1950s, When The Noise Outside The Window Was Mostly Wind And Sea Chime.

The World Does Not Turn Without Moments Of Grace. Who Cares How Small.

The Irish Are Great For Their Tunes, But All Their Lovesongs Are Sad And Their Warsongs Happy.

It Struck Me That Distant Cities Are Designed Precisely So You Can Know Where You Came From.

Every Man With His Own Peculiar Vice. His Will Hardly Rock Heaven Or Hell.