Thought Is The Thought Of Thought.

What Is Better Than To Sit At The End Of The Day And Drink Wine With Friends, Or Substitutes For Friends?

No Pen, No Ink, No Table, No Room, No Time, No Quiet, No Inclination.

The Object Of The Artist Is The Creation Of The Beautiful. What The Beautiful Is Is Another Question.

If The Irish Programme Did Not Insist On The Irish Language I Suppose I Could Call Myself A Nationalist. As It Is, I Am Content Torecognize Myself An Exile: And, Prophetically, A Repudiated One.

An Irishman Needs Three Things : Silence, Cunnning, And Exile.