I wonder what Adam and Eve think of it by this time.

I'm troubled. I'm dissatisfied. I'm Irish.

The Irish say your trouble is their trouble and your joy their joy? I wish I could believe it; I am troubled, I'm dissatisfied, I'm Irish.

Hindered characters / seldom have mothers / in Irish stories, but they all have grandmothers.

The sweet air coming into your house on a fine day, from water etched with waves as formal as the scales on a fish.

The enslaver is enslaved, the hater, harmed.

My father used to say, "Superior people never make long visits, have to be shown Longfellows grave, or the glass flowers at Harvard."