My three-thousand mile walk through Ireland convinced me of one thing - the possibility of organising a proper movement for the independence of my native land.

What the heart knows today the head will understand tomorrow.

I came to the resolve that the attempt was not only worth trying, but should be tried in the very near future if we wanted at all to keep our flag flying; for I was sure as of my own existence that if another decade was allowed to pass without an endeavour of some kind or another to shake off an unjust yoke, the Irish people would sink into lethargy from which it would be impossible for any patriot . . . to arouse them . . .

Finality is death. Perfection is finality. Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it.

Can a spear divine the Eternal Will?

I would think Until I found Something I can never find; - Something Lying On the ground, In the bottom Of my mind.

Women and birds are able to see without turning their heads, and that is indeed a necessary provision for they are both surrounded by enemies.