It’s Lovely To Know That The World

People Everywhere Brag And Whimper About The Woes Of Their Early Years, But Nothing Can Compare With The Irish Version: The Poverty; The Shiftless Loquacious Father; The Pious Defeated Mother Moaning By The Fire; Pompous Priests; Bullying School Masters; The English And The Terrible Things They Did To Us For Eight Hundred Long Years. Above All -- We Were Wet.

There's Nothing Sillier In The World Than A Teacher Telling You Don't Do It After You Already Did It.

I've Been Writing In Notebooks For 40 Years Or So.

When I Look Back On My Childhood I Wonder How I Survived At All. It Was, Of Course, A Miserable Childhood: The Happy Childhood Is Hardly Worth Your While. Worse Than The Ordinary Miserable Childhood Is The Miserable Irish Childhood, And Worse Yet Is The Miserable Irish Catholic Childhood.

I Told Her Tea Bags Were Just A Convenience For People With Busy Lives And She Said No One Is So Busy They Can't Take Time To Make A Decent Cup Of Tea And If You Are That Busy You Don't Deserve A Decent Cup Of Tea For What Is It All About Anyway? Are We Put Into This World To Be Busy Or To Chat Over A Nice Cup Of Tea?