If Ireland Is To Become A New

In The Name Of Annah The Allmaziful, The Everliving, The Bringer Of Plurabilities, Haloed Be Her Eve, Her Singtime Sung, Her Rill Be Run, Unhemmed As It Is Uneven!

When The Soul Of A Man Is Born In This Country There Are Nets Flown At It To Hold It Back From Flight.

My Words In Her Mind: Cold Polished Stones Sinking Through A Quagmire.

Bury The Dead. Say Robinson Crusoe Was True To Life. Well Then Friday Buried Him. Every Friday Buries A Thursday If You Come To Look At It.

The Demand That I Make Of My Reader Is That He Should Devote His Whole Life To Reading My Works.