What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.

Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke upon and illuminated his memory.

Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.

Thanks be to God we lived so long and did so much good.

A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

[A writer is] a priest of eternal imagination, transmuting the daily bread of experience into the radiant body of everliving life.

I will not say nothing. I will defend my church and my religion when it is insulted and spit on.