“Are you sayin' it's okay to throw yourself at someone for the sake of art but it's not okay to go around bein' nice?”

“Horse-Protestant be damned,” Maurice chuckled, “I am as Irish as the rest of you, but I don’t get to blame someone whenever things don’t go my way.”

“Yes. I guess it's the foolish romantic in me, but you see, I don’t think that sex is my Muse.”

“She knew where they were going. She had visited Kilmainham Gaol before, wrapped in its brooding walls lest the ghosts it housed should break free and point accusing fingers at those who used the reins of power to drive the horses of personal ambition. It was a sad place where the residue of human suffering lingered – it had no place else to go.”

“Do you really think that one person can be enough for someone?”

“It was great spending the nights with him, but sometimes, she needed a little break from him and the her that she became around him.”

“Words that had looked so strong on the page, which ran through his mind like music, now shriveled in the air around him.”