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In the branches of trees, in the eaves of houses, in the hunched backs of the hills he saw it, the dangling slothful vicious arm about the neck he loved.
a wonderful poetic description of oppression of the local population by the occupying forces of some other people.
Your egoism is not in doubt, MacMurrough. What is in doubt is your humanity.
so true - and it never changes as the centuries go by - freud's battle of the id, the ego and the super ego.
It’s terrifying to be tempted into happiness.
a jewel of a sentence.
So spake Scrotes, and having spoke he smole a smile and home to raven regions lonely stole.
almost Shakespearean :) but certainly conjures thoughts of many authors like edgar allan poe.
she sat outside in the lane, under a fierce January sun that wouldn’t heat you one bit, save that it warmed the heart to see. A couple old sparrows was chirping out of the chestnut trees over, the way they’d be fooled by a sunny day into arguing title.
a beautifully descriptive scene
It ain’t all honey and it ain’t all jam Wheeling round the houses with a home-made pram.
the quaint and cute little irish sayings are magical
The priest went on to tell the corporal sequelae, how God has set the mark of ignominy on the solitary sinner’s face. The sickly pallor, the eyes darkened with the shadows of vice, the listless restless joyless posture. Where once the future shone brightly in his eyes, now but gleams the dark road to lunacy. In this life the asylum is his sole hope, in the next the fires of hell.
oh the joys of religious guilt and condemnation! in the 21st century we are able to reason and deduce that such cruelty is totally man-made and incorporated into religion in order to control people.
But no, it would never be over, Jim knew. This was only the beginning. They had to do this to learn how to hate. They had forgotten to hate the British. Now they’d learn. And they wouldn’t be playing soldiers no more. Next time would be murder. And he’d murder every last one till they were gone of his country. That he would. “Every last one,” he told MacMurrough. “And still I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them for fun if there was any fun to be had.”
the thoughts that many young men and women under oppression have...the more the occupiers oppress the population the more they are planting the seed of hatred in young minds. eventually revolution will follow.
That’s why I hope they’ll shoot us all. I don’t know can I bear to become what I’ll be.”
that spark of humanity buried in the oppressed heart.
