Now, you mummy's darlings, get a rift on them boots.
Definitely shine em, my little curly-headed lambs, for in our mob, war or no war, you die with clean boots on.
When Irish eyes are smiling, watch your step.
I can't believe in the God of my Fathers.
If there is one Mind which understands all things, it will comprehend me in my unbelief. I don't know whose hand hung Hesperus in the sky, and fixed the Dog Star, and scattered the shining dust of Heaven, and fired the sun, and froze the darkness between the lonely worlds that spin in space.
There are men whom one hates until a certain moment when one sees, through a chink in their armour, the writhing of something nailed down and in torment.