“When shall I be dead and rid Of all the wrong my father did? How long, how long 'till spade and hearse Put to sleep my mother's curse?”

“I could just remember how my father used to say that the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.”

“Salcombe Hardy groaned: "How long, O Lord, how long shall we have to listen to all this tripe about commercial arsenic? Murderers learn it now at their mother's knee.”

“How shall I ever sleep again knowing she is out there in the night? How shall I ever keep another thought in my head when she is all I care to think about?”

“They say, that when I was born,my mother taught me to suck the milk.And every night beside my crib,she taught me to sleep as soft as silk.With a smile she pressed her lips to mine,till my mouth with joy oversplit.She took my hand and guided my foot,till I learned to walk with a happy lilt.One word, two words, then three and more...that's how she taught me to talk.That's why my life is part of her life,and will remain so as long as I live”

“I can't believe the news todayOh, I can't close my eyes And make it go awayHow long...How long must we sing this songHow long, how long...'cause tonight...we can be as oneTonight...Broken bottles under children's feetBodies strewn across the dead end streetBut I won't heed the battle callIt puts my back upPuts my back up against the wallSunday, Bloody Sunday”