Days Without End

by Sebastian Barry

Time was not something then we thought of as an item that possessed an ending, but something that would go on forever, all rested and stopped in that moment.

You look back at all the endless years when you never had that thought. I am doing that now as I write these words in Tennessee. I am thinking of the days without end of my life.

Clean out the country for good people to step into. Make a paradise. Now we make this American paradise I guess. Guess it be strange so many Irish boys doing this work. Ain’t that the way of the world. No such item as a virtuous people.