I have always felt that everybody on earth goes about in disguise.
Celibacy bestows on a man the qualified freedom of a besieged city where one sometimes has to eat rats.
Love lives in sealed bottles of regret.
The things I like to find in a story are punch and poetry.
Stories, like whiskey, must be allowed to mature in the cask.
If we turn to early Irish literature, as we naturally may, to see what sort of people the Irish were in the infancy of the race, we find ourselves wandering in delighted bewilderment through a darkness shot with lightning and purple flame.