“Do ghosts drink tea?They don't, said Tansey. But this ghost would love to see a cup of tea in front of her. It'd be lovely.”

“She's a pot-of-tea-before-I-say-boo-to-you woman. There's always a pile of warm teabags in the sink when I come down, like what a horse would leave behind.”

“-I love yeh, son, said Jimmy Sr.He could say it and no one could hear him, except young Jimmy, because of the singing and roaring and breaking glasses.-I think you’re fuckin’ great, said Jimmy Sr.-Ah fuck off, will yeh, said Jimmy Jr. -Packie saved the fuckin’ penalty, not me.But he liked what he’d heard, Jimmy Sr could tell that. He gave Jimmy Sr a dig in the stomach.-You’re not a bad oul’ cunt yourself, he said.”

“I cried, a bit, as a spoke to Belinda on my mobile phone, in a quiet corner, perhaps the only quiet corner in Jaipur. I told her how I'd hoped Paul would read the forward, that he'd read how much I admired his work and how much I admired him, how much I just plain liked him and loved him. But, even as I spoke, I knew: Paul had always known that. He'd seen in on my face every time we met. What made me cry was the obvious, stupid fact that we'd never meet again.”

“She’s happier than Nicola. That’s probably true. Alcoholics can stop drinking but what is there for the children of alcoholics? Is it always too late? Probably. She doesn’t know.”

“To claim that music is more important than oxygen would be trite and sentimental. It would also be true.”

“I live on an island called Ireland where most of the music is shite. I grew up listening to "Danny Boy"; I grew up hating Danny Boy, and all his siblings and his granny. "The pipes, the pipes are caw-haw-hawing." Anything with pipes or fiddles or even - forgive me, Paul - banjos, I detested. Songs of loss, of love, of going across the sea; songs of defiance and rebellion - I vomited on all of them.”