The darkness keeps its own counsel.
You ever read Thucydides? I’ll boil him down for you into one easy moral: intergenerational civil war is a very bad thing.
The driver had on Radio 1, which was giving us Kylie Minogue's 'I should be so lucky'....By the song's second verse I was already longing for an IRA ambush and and by the second chorus I was dreaming...
Don't go there, Sean. Not on a Sunday. There's no point making waves, Crabbie said. He was as impatient as I was but maybe he was right. We drove back to the station. I poured myself a Johnnie Walker...
As the Russians say, getting what you want sometimes requires moving like the knight in chess: forward and to the left.
The problem with Double Fantasy was the arrangement whereby they alternated John Lennon tracks with Yoko Ono tracks. You couldn’t escape Yoko for more than four minutes at a time.
We drank our whiskeys. It was the good stuff and it tasted of salt, sea, rain, wind and the Old Testament.
Twelve-year-old Islay. Good stuff if you liked peat, smoke, earth, rain, despair, and the Atlantic Ocean, and who doesn’t like that?
Olann an cat cluin bainne leis.
Number one: you are not the first and you will certainly not be the last. Number two: remember, it’s not about the money—it’s about The Chain.
I’m not down with the kids, though, am I? And you still haven’t answered my question. What’s an SEP? Someone else’s problem, Sean, Matty said, with a heavy and significant sigh.
Encouraging nod of the head. Through the gigantic glass windows,
To quote Bugs Bunny, it’s mongoose season, and you’re the fucking mongoose.
Patriotism is a hard disease to eradicate, and ennui stamps us all.
Sallow-faced, balding, heavy lidded, Uriah Heep of a man, Kevin
You're a glass-half-empty kind of guy, sir, aren't you?I don't even acknowledge the existence of the glass, son.
Nelson had a face like Brian Clough getting sodomised with a pineapple.
My friend you must understand that time forks perpetually into countless futures. And in at least one of them I have become your enemy. Jorge Luis Borges, The Garden of Forking Paths (1941)
You painted it pink?' Price asked with a grin.'That’s lavender, you colour-blind eejit,' I said.McCallister saw that Price clearly hadn’t got the message yet. 'Hey lads, you know why Price nearly fail...
Intelligence is no substitute for wisdom. Live long enough to get wise, eh?