An Irishman Needs Three Things : Silence,

This Race And This Country And This Life Produced Me, He Said. I Shall Express Myself As I Am.

The Voices Blend And Fuse In Clouded Silence: Silence That Is Infinite Of Space: And Swiftly, Silently The Sound Is Wafted Over Regions Of Cycles Of Cycles Of Generations That Have Lived.

No One Would Think He'd Make Such A Beautiful Corpse.

When I Heard The Word ''stream'' Uttered With Such A Revolting Primness, What I Think Of Is Urine And Not The Contemporary Novel. And Besides, It Isn't New, It Is Far From The Dernier Cri. Shakespeare Used It Continually, Much Too Much In My Opinion, And There's Tristam Shandy, Not To Mention The "agamemnon."

Oh Ireland My First And Only Love Where Christ And Caesar Are Hand In Glove!