Writing is turning one's worst moments into money.

When I die I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Dublin.

I don’t like lawyers, nannie.” “No one likes lawyers, little boy.

Miss Frost, sometimes I feel fifty three. Seldom, but at times, I feel twenty. Like the days. Ever feel a Saturday on a Tuesday? Or a week of one Friday after another? Recently I’ve been seventy. But I remember thirty four as a fine age.

At the age of 18 I don’t think that I thought very differently than I did at the age of 25. I think we instinctively have the knowledge and adapt the knowledge we need.

Not using that handy maxim a man is what he makes his dough at and alas how much. Sometimes it is a gentle gesture to remind people of their big time possibilities. Makes them like you.

Lawyers, ah yes, they have courage. But only when it is time to send the bill.

See all the women seated, youth in their face lifts, old age in their hands.

Who is that man with mommie. These are lawyers. What are lawyers. They are men who look things up in big books.

I’m all for Christianity, but insolence must be put down.