And you my boy are going to make something of yourself. Take no nonsense from inferiors and less from superiors and count on being surrounded by cras… - J. P. Donleavy

And there. Caught in the morning sun. She goes. Galloping. Her hair flying from her head as Dingle's flows out from his mane. A gleaming black body rippling of muscle. Great long legs stretching out on the emerald turf.

Morning wiping sleepy dust from eyes, Balthazar asked nannie why does everyone cry. Because your father has gone away. Where. To where people go. Where do they go. They pass away. Where. To be with God. Why. Because they are dead. What is dead. Dead is when your heart grows cold. Will my heart ever grow cold. Yes God love you little boy.

There is but one thing that is important, that no one can ever take your good manners from you.