You feel a sense of urgency, especially at my advanced age, when you're staring into the grave.

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.

We never really had any kind of a Christmas. This is one part where my memory fails me completely.

It's not enough to be American. You always have to be something else, Irish-American, German-American, and you'd wonder how they'd get along if someone hadn't invented the hyphen

Shakespeare is like mashed potatoes, you can never get enough of him.

There's so much absurdity. Poverty is so absurd.

Oh, God above, if heaven has a taste it must be an egg with butter and salt, and after the egg is there anything in the world lovelier than fresh warm bread and a mug of sweet golden tea?