The Third Policeman

by Flann O'Brien

started to think with great concentration, calling into play parts of my brain that I rarely used.

‘It is nearly too nice,’ I said at last, ‘to talk about it.’

‘would it be right to ask you what you were performing with that little small piano-instrument, the article with the knobs, and the brass pins?’ ‘That is my personal musical instrument,’ said MacCruiskeen, ‘and I was playing my own tunes on it in order to extract private satisfaction from the sweetness of them.’

a skinny wife in the craw of a cold bed in springtime.’

‘What way are we going?’ I asked, ‘or what direction are we heading for or are we on the way back from somewhere else?’

‘Questions are like the knocks of beggarmen, and should not be minded,’

he invented the high saddle as the outcome of his perpetual cerebration and mental researches.

‘put your hands in under its underneath and start feeling promiscuously the way you can ascertain factually if there is anything there in addition to its own nothing.’

:)

There was no animal there that was bigger than a man’s thumb and no noise superior to that which the Sergeant was making with his nose, an unusual brand of music like wind in the chimney.

Walking finely from the hips the two of us made our way home

‘Your talk,’ I said, ‘is surely the handiwork of wisdom because not one word of it do I understand.’

:)

The house was quiet in itself and silent but a canopy of lazy smoke had been erected over the chimney to indicate that people were within engaged on tasks.

I knew that the Sergeant was talking the truth and if it was a question of taking my choice, it was possible that I would have to forego the reality of all the simple things my eyes were looking at.

a good bicycle is a great companion, there is a great charm about it.’

‘A horse in everything but extraneous externalities.

They have a heart-lifted effect more usually associated with spirituous liquors, reviving and quietly restoring the spiritual tissue.

gravitation was the ‘jailer’ of humanity,

‘And what steps have you taken and how many steps?’ barked the Inspector. ‘Long steps and steps in the right direction,’ replied the Sergeant evenly.

‘See that you regularize your irregularity instantaneously,’

When MacCruiskeen found his tongue again he used the most unclean language ever spoken and invented dirtier words than the dirtiest ever spoken anywhere. He put names on Gilhaney too impossible and revolting to be written with known letters.

I don’t know. How can I know why I think my thoughts?

he looked large and lifelike and surprisingly full of breakfast.

His voice was friendly and reassuring, like pockets in an old suit.

all the low unsilence of the daytime was in my ear, bright and restless like a caged bird.

‘Is this the road to eternity?’ ‘It is indeed but there is no signpost.’

Trees were active where they stood and gave uncompromising evidence of their strength.

The Sergeant was feeling himself sensually for his keys.

My voice, perhaps, had not been strong enough to travel to his ear.

‘It does a man no harm,’ the Sergeant remarked pleasantly, ‘to move around a bit and see things. It is a great thing for widening out the mind. A wide mind is a grand thing, it nearly always leads to farseeing inventions.

there is a limit and a boundary to everything within the scope of reason’s garden.’

‘But the secret of it all-in-all,’ continued the Sergeant, ‘is the daily readings. Attend to your daily readings and your conscience will be as clear as a clean shirt on Sunday morning. I am a great believer in the daily readings.’

It is not clear, unfortunately, whether the reader is expected to infer that a wet day is more enjoyable than a dry one or that a lengthy course of baths is a reliable method of achieving peace of mind.

The sun was in the neighbourhood also, distributing his enchantment unobtrusively, colouring the sides of things that were unalive and livening the hearts of living things.

he was still gazing wild-eyed into the middle of the day, which was situated at least five miles away, like a man trying to memorize forever the perfection of the lightly clouded sky and the brown and green and boulder-white of the peerless country.

it is a great thing to do what is necessary before it becomes essential and unavoidable.’

there was a warm enchanted silence as if the last note of some music too fascinating almost for comprehension had receded and disappeared long before its absence was truly noticed.

There is not much that I can say. No. Except to advise a brave front and a spirit of heroic resignation.

He, for all his greatness, frequently fell asleep for no apparent reason in the middle of everyday life, often even in the middle of a sentence.

I knew that I liked this bicycle more than I had ever liked any other bicycle, better even than I had liked some people with two legs.

my mouth drying up like a raindrop on a hot pavement.

‘it is very simple and a neighbour’s child could work it all without being trained.

I would improve the weather to a standard day of sunny peace with gentle rain at night washing the world to make it fresher and more enchanting to the eye.

the product of a mind which fed upon adventure books of small boys,

I do not like taking personal liberties because where would the world be if we all did that?’

Black angry clouds were piling in the west, bulging and glutted, ready to vomit down their corruption and drown the dreary world in it.