“The Board would like to come back and see you tomorrow, Ariana,' she mimicked. 'Any more questions?''Yes,' she answered in the Warden's Irish accent, 'I'd just like to know why I'm such an arsehole.”

“She asks why I like her.Might as well askWhy I breathe.Maybe tomorrow I won'tBreathe or like herAnymore.Maybe tomorrow the tidesWill stop.Maybe tomorrow will bringNo more rainbows.Maybe tomorrowShe will stopAsking useless questions.”

“She eyes me. 'What is this all about?' It's my turn to shrug, upsetting the rocks on my back. 'I don't know. Girl talk. I mean, you can have any guy you want, so why don't you just pick one?' Priscilla doesn't answer at first. I'm glad I chose this moment: she's actually pinned down and cannot run away. Finally, she says, 'If I can have any guy I want, I'd like to have every guy I want.' 'What do you mean? She gives me an exasperated look. 'I'm only seventeen, Skye. I'm not looking to settle down just yet.' She probably misunderstands my shocked expression, because she adds, 'I mean, I'm not saying you're wrong or anything, but it's just not me, you know?”

“Why couldn't she just come out and say she liked him?Maybe it was because she more than liked him.”

“Flight 2039 to Boston is now boarding at gate 14A," a voice announced over the PA system.Nellie sighed. "I love Irish accents." She paused. "And Australian accents. And English accents." A dreamy look came over her face. "Theo had an awesome accent."Dan snorted. "Yeah, there was just that one tiny problem. He turned out to be a two-timing, backstabbing thief.”

“Why are Americans so fascinated by Ireland?” Keith asked... “you all think you’re Irish. What’s the appeal? Do you like the accent more? Is it all the magical rocks? Oh, look, a lep­rechaun...”