Bernard MacLaverty Quotes

A bird's-eye view does not see the truth.

Gerry had once said to her in the middle of an argument that he didn't believe in souls but if, just perchance, they did exist, hers would be like a razor. She had been made that way by the Catholic Church, he said. Inflexible, narrow, capable of doing terrible damage by her adherence to rules and systems. But she totally objected. She told him that if she was a good person at all, it had come from her religion. If she had any sense of justice and fairness, any concept of equality, then it had come from the Church.

Purring was the funniest thing, like a motorbike in the distance.

Believers. I mean, where have they all gone?

They crossed a metal suspension bridge over a canal. Both sides of the structure bristled with padlocks. Some of the brass locks had felt-tipped names written on them. 'Don + Gwen', 'Micky & Minnie', 'Leo n Leonora'. One had a message written on it. 'Graham and Vickey. I love you more than Coco Pops.' "It must be some kind of love fest," Gerry said. "Clamped for ever."
"Have you seen this kinda thing before?" "I've heard of it." "It'll be the young ones." "Trendy ones."

It was a way of not thinking - to concentrate on her surroundings. If she stared at things, then it helped block out stuff.

He wanted to pray but couldn't because he no longer believed. Prayer was just an intense wishing.

It concentrates the mind wonderfully knowing that this [life] is all we can expect.

Cal, the world is full of gulpins who don't care who they hurt.

He continued talking. "When you find out about real education you can never leave it alone. I don't mean A-levels and things like that - you are just proving something to yourself with them - but books, ideas, feelings. Everything to do with up here." He tapped his temple. "And here." He tapped the middle of his chest.

When she met men the first things she took account of were the negative things. Wimpishness, a bully, shiftiness, recklessness, elaborate facial hair.

You can't choose your children.

They are angry men with vision, Brother, and by God their anger is justified. Ireland has not much longer to suffer. Her misery will soon be over and we'll be a united country again." "Yes," said Brother Sebastian, "but I don't like their methods." "Nor do I, Brother. Nor do I. But do you like the methods of the British Government any better?

"Bitter?" said the barmaid and he nodded. What a strange thing to call a drink. Bitter. Aloes. Sorrow. For something that was supposed to make you feel happy.

On a slippery slope the only way was down.