ancientreader

“Sometimes,’ croaked Margaret in a voice bent ragged from two days’ crying, ‘when God sees a particularly pretty flower, He’ll take it up from Earth, and put it in his own garden.’ Margaret held me in the sort of tight, worried grip usually reserved for heaving lambs up a ladder. As she clenched my hand and told me God had specially marked my mother for death, a tear-damp thumb traced small circles on my temple. She stroked my hair. It was nice to think that Mammy was so well-liked by God, since she was a massive fan. She went to all his gigs – Mass, prayer groups, marriage guidance meetings; and had all the action figures – small Infant of Prague statuettes, much larger Infant of Prague statuettes, little blue plastic flasks of holy water in the shape of God’s own Mammy herself.”
― Séamas O'Reilly, Did Ye Hear Mammy Died?

“Okay. How much do you need?”
“Couple of hundred. Three…”
“Three hundred?”
“You’re a fucking surgeon, Simon.”
“Junior orthopaedic surgeon,” he said. “It’s going to be a while before I’m pulling down consultant level cash. And even then I’d make more money if I’d become a footballer.”
“You wouldn’t,” I said. “I’ve seen you play football. You were always running away from the ball.”
“That’s because it was a heavy, leather projectile travelling rapidly towards my face.”
“Yes, but you were the goalkeeper.”
― Jess Whitecroft, Less Than Three

“These two distinct crimes, with their different emphases on the individual and the group, grew side by side, yet over time genocide emerged in the eyes of many as the crime of crimes, a hierarchy that left a suggestion that the killing of large numbers of people as individuals was somehow less terrible.”
― Philippe Sands, East West Street: On the Origins of "Genocide" and "Crimes Against Humanity"

“I know getting Vegas married on cocaine is probably not the best start to a marriage”
― Jess Whitecroft, The James Dean Vintage