I had no accomplishments except surviving. But that isn't enough in the community where I came from, because everybody was doing it. So I wasn't prepared for America, where everybody is glowing with good teeth and good clothes and food.

The English wouldn't give you the steam of their piss.

I just have to proceed as usual. No matter what happens, nothing helps with the writing of the next book.

Where did I get the nerve to think I could handle American teenagers? Ignorance. That's where I got the nerve.

When I act tough they listen politely till the spasm passes. They know.

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.

It’s lovely to know that the world can’t interfere with the inside of your head.