“What do you think of boybands?"I avoided eye contact, put my hands in my pockets, and shrugged."Not my thing, really." What was he getting at?He chortled, and continued. "They are all the same. They've all got a lead singer whose head is stuck up his own arse, then a hard one who gets into trouble, an ugly one who wants to be taken seriously, and always, without exception, there's a gay one.”

“Mr. Charles Darwin, who looked a bit like God which is interesting, wrote a book called You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate. He played around with the title for a while: We're All Fucking Monkeys; You're a Fucking Monkey, Mate; Get Out of My Face, You Fucking Monkey. And he ended up with On The Origin of Species.”

“Just think of how easy it will be to get it off later,” I said, kissing his neck.“That’s the problem. Every other guy there will be thinking the same thing.”“But you’re the only one that gets to find out,” I lilted. He didn’t respond, and I leaned back to assess his expression. “Do you really want me to change?”Travis scanned my face, my dress, my legs, and then exhaled. “No matter what you wear, you’re gorgeous. I should just get used to it, now, right?” I shrugged and he shook his head. “All right, we’re already late. Let’s go.”

“And he got going from there to America. Worked his passage, I s'pose, like a lot more. And I heard he did well in America, too. Got married there. Had a family. But never came back. And you know why? 'Cause if he did, if he ever set foot in Ireland again, you know who'd be waiting for him, don't you?That's right. The three of 'em. And their box. And the second time they'd make no mistake.It is a much-overlooked fact that not all of the thousands who fled Ireland in former times did so to escape hunger, deprivation, and persecution. There were also those who went to escape the wrath of the Good People. Many stories illustrated this, the one here being typical.”

“Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day. Either He will shield you from suffering, or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace, then, put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations, and say continually: The Lord is my strength and shield; my heart has trusted in Him and I am helped. He is not only with me, but in me and I in Him.”

“Sorry is the fool who trades his soul for a corvette Thinks he'll get the girl he'll only get the mechanic.”

“Gave her love away, put it in my pocket when it should of been framed!”