My Puns Are Not Trivial. They Are

He Comes Into The World God Knows How, Walks On The Water, Gets Out Of His Grave And Goes Up Off The Hill Of Howth. What Drivel Is This?

There Was No Doubt About It: If You Wanted To Succeed You Had To Go Away. You Could Do Nothing In Dublin.

Beauty, The Splendour Of Truth, Is A Gracious Presence When The Imagination Contemplates Intensely The Truth Of Its Own Being Or The Visible World, And The Spirit Which Proceeds Out Of Truth And Beauty Is The Holy Spirit Of Joy. These Are Realities And These Alone Give And Sustain Life.

My Mouth Is Full Of Decayed Teeth And My Soul Of Decayed Ambitions.

When The Short Days Of Winter Came, Dusk Fell Before We Had Well Eaten Our Dinners. When We Met In The Street The Houses Had Grown Sombre. The Space Of Sky Above Us Was The Colour Of Ever-changing Violet And Towards It The Lamps Of The Street Lifted Their Feeble Lanterns. The Cold Air Stung Us And We Played Till Our Bodies Glowed. Our Shouts Echoed In The Silent Street.