"Far from being pro-Unionist, I do not want Ireland to be part of the United Kingdom. But, as a Wolfe Tone republican, I feel I have a firm duty to defend the rights of Protestants and Dissenters to do their own thing until such time as we can persuade them their future is in a federal Ireland."

"I am not a nationalist, I am a Wolfe Tone Republican. In pursuit of that ideal I have been forced to continually shift positions, much like a man in a cinema who keeps changing his seat, but only so he can get a clean view of the same film. And the title of the film, of which I never tire, is The Future Irish Republic."

"Above all, most Irish nationalists entertain the fiction of Irish exceptionalism, the false conviction that Ireland suffered more under British colonialism than any other comparable people. Let me be clear. I am not saying something nasty did not happen in the historical woodshed. What I am saying is that what happened was neither as nasty as we believe, nor did it last as long as we believe, nor was it all the work of some beastly British soldier passing by."

"The automatic assumption that everything a unionist does is wrong is not good for us. Like, how could everything that unionists do be wrong? I mean, they're not a special people. They're not a kind of special bad people."

"[Brendan Behan was] too young to die, but too drunk to live."

"I only drink on two occasions — When I am thirsty and when I'm not."

"If the English hoard words like misers, the Irish spend them like sailors; and Brendan Behan … sends language out on a swaggering spree, ribald, flushed, and spoiling for a fight."

"Mother, they would praise my balls if I hung them high enough."

"There's no bad publicity except an obituary."

"I respect kindness in human beings first of all, and kindness to animals. I don't respect the law; I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old men and old women warmer in the winter and happier in the summer."

"As regards drink, I can only say that in Dublin during the Depression when I was growing up, drunkenness was not regarded as a social disgrace. To get enough to eat was regarded as an achievement. To get drunk was a victory."

"When I came back to Dublin, I was courtmartialled in my absence and sentenced to death in my absence, so I said they could shoot me in my absence."

"Brendan described himself as a drinker with a writing problem, but what he really was a painter with a writing problem. No matter in what country of the globe he resided, or how many luminaries he met, the would always be a painter in his soul. If he had remained one for his livelihood, he could still be alive today."

"He was born an Englishman and remained one for years."

"Brendan lit a bonfire under the arse of Irish literature. He took it by the scruff of the neck and dragged it kicking and screaming into the 20th century."

"It's not that the Irish are cynical. It's rather that they have a wonderful lack of respect for everything and everybody."

"An author's first duty is to let down his country."

"The sun was in mind to come out but having a look at the weather it was in lost heart and went back again."

"Oh Paddy dear, and did you hear The news that's going round? The shamrock is forbid by law To grow on Irish ground."

"Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them."

"When the law can stop the blades of grass From growing as they grow, And when the leaves in summer time Their verdure dare not show, Then I will change the colour I wear in my caubeen, But till that day I'll stick for aye To wearing of the green."

"But like the end of every rainbow I ran to with my sisters, all I ever found was misty rain drops."

"Along the Liffey quays this night, puddles of water on the cobble stoned street. Lonely lamplights. Coal dust and barrels, crates and bundles of wire. Great shadows of the gas tank rearing in the sky. A whiff and sniff and smell of pine timber. Wild shadows against a sky faintly purple. Clouds rolling with moonlit edges. The blast of a ship's whistle. A hawser splashing in the water. Up in the crystal night the ship's red light. Trembling engines as the great black silhouette moves out on the flowing river."

"Foxy said it was always good to use the word fucking in your threats. Then they always fucking well knew. That you Fucking well Meant it"

"A tall scholar rushes up the steps to the lectern and Latins out grace. Beseated. A great clatter of shifting chairs. The carvers stand at their long tables sharpening knives. The great joints heaved up on their platters at the serving hatch. Thin harassed faces of these little women stared out across the dark gowned gathering. To catch their breath and go plunging back down again deep into the bowels of this dungeon kitchen. The clank of cutlery. The passing of the jug of beer. Light refreshing ale, a gift from a prosperous brewer."

"Good larder is a man's salvation."

"Balthazar B standing on this grey wet pavement. The rain falling through a halo of lamplight. A post office, butcher, grocer and newsagent. Lonely houses behind high hedges. The wind with a seaweed smell off the sea. This girl thinly standing, clutching her handbag. The rear red light of the taxi still seen after its sound is gone."

"Even if everybody suffers, your own suffering does not seem less."

"You look so splendid." "Just my image. The inner Tomson is in a sand storm, the outer one is skiing down the sunny mountain, smiling." "Shall we bring the inner Tomson somewhere for a cocktail?" "Let's."

"Ambling south along the river past the Watch Museum, where so often one means to visit but never finds the time."

"Morning wiping sleepy dust from eyes, Balthazar asked nannie why does everyone cry. Because your father has gone away. Where. To where people go. Where do they go. They pass away. Where. To be with God. Why. Because they are dead. What is dead. Dead is when your heart grows cold. Will my heart ever grow cold. Yes God love you little boy."

"Smell weakness and they close in all at once."

"A pity to meet kindness. Lower one's guard. And wham."

"If you shoot off a chap's kneecaps I hardly think there is point in putting bullets in his liver."

"Life is always travelling to a sorrow."

""Why don't you shut up. You thief." Amazing how few words one has to use to gain one's desired effect."

"If you don't live with kids they grow to hate you. If you live with them they hate you more. Not a shred of respect. [...] Take my money, and then look me in the eye and say who asked you to be our father."

"It would seem in life when all is said and done that it is unwise to speak to anyone if it can be avoided."

"I, George Smith, hereby make known my last will and testicle. First off I should like to rear up and haunt all those who tried to screw me up while living. Special attention to be given those fuck pigs who have communicated with me by letter attempting thereby to get funds from my unrelenting clutches."

"Now kneel down in that booth while I give ye me special yule blessing. Get down in that booth. I know you're standing, you dirty ould cheat. Get down. For Jesus, what are you doing, ripping the phone out? Repeat after me, the Lord is my shepherd as I am one of his sheared sheep." "The Lord is my shepherd as I am one of his sheared sheep."

"And I've something to tell you in strict confidence so spread it everywhere."

"Life getting like a merrygoround with people getting on and off and no one paying for the ride."

"Interesting that in times of terror, when the boom is to be lowered, people you hire to save you trouble and trembling think instantly of their own skins. As things come out of the void to get you. Bullets, buses, trucks, germs."

"Turn to gangsterism." "Sebastian, I couldn't." "Tone, pride has you at its mercy." "Has me by the very ballocks." "Tony, I think a pint would see us right." "I think you're right for the first time since you last said that."

"Mr Dangerfield, why don't you believe in hell and things like that?" "Hell is for poor people."

"They say there is good in everyone. If you just give them a chance. And a good boot in the arse."

"What are you going to do in London?" "Rest from the eyes. Ever notice the eyes along the street. Ever notice them? Looking for something. And in this fine cultured city it's me."

"How small we make our worlds. Gather them in, tighten them up into little castles of fear."

"All I want Is one break Which is not My neck."