I Believe In The Compelling Power Of

The Irish Are A Philosophic As Well As A Practical Race. Their First And Strongest Impulse Is To Make The Best Of A Bad Situation To Put A Better Face On Evil Than It Normally Wears.

Life Is Made For The Strong. There Is No Mercy In It For The Weak– None...such Is The Tragedy Of Desire.

I Acknowledge The Furies. I Believe In Them. I Have Heard The Disastrous Beating Of Their Wings.

I Have Seen Youths Bright Eyed And Fair Groping After Bubbles In Rapture, And Conceiving Them Diamonds And The Glitter Of Fine Jewels, Until Their Hand Closed Over A Something That Was Not To Be Felt Nor Longer Seen, Mere Colored Air.

If I Were Personally To Define Religion, I Would Say That It Is A Bandage That Man Has Invented To Protect A Soul Made Bloody By Circustance.