It is the nature of a person as he/she grows older to protest against change, particularly changes for the better.

Some days are born ugly. From the very first light they are no damn good what ever the weather, and everbody knows it. No one knows what causes this, but on such a day people resist getting out of bed and set their heels against the day. When they are finally forced out by hunger or job they find that the day is just as lousy as they knew it would be.

The comfortable people in tight houses felt pity at first, and then distaste, and finally hatred for the migrant people.

Nobody changes. Nobody gets hurt.

Our people are good people; our people are kind people. Pray God some day kind people won't all be poor.

They're a dark people with a gift for suffering way past their deserving. It's said that without whiskey to soak and soften the world, they'd kill themselves. (Irish)

To be alive at all is to have scars.