The End Is In The Beginning And

She Felt, As She Felt So Often With Murphy, Spattered With Words That Went Dead As Soon As They Sounded; Each Word Obliterated, Before It Had Time To Make Sense, By The Word That Came Next; So That In The End She Did Not Know What Had Been Said. It Was Like Difficult Music Heard For The First Time.

We Are All Born; Some Remain So.

Birth Was The Death Of Him.

Yes, There Were Times When I Forgot Not Only Who I Was But That I Was, Forgot To Be.

Tears And Laughter, They Are So Much Gaelic To Me.