Every Day In The Year

As To The Old History Of Ireland, The First Man Ever Died In Ireland Was Partholan, And He Is Buried, And His Greyhound Along With Him, At Some Place In Kerry.

If The Past Year Were Offered Me Again, And Choice Of Good And Ill Before Me Set Would I Accept The Pleasure With The Pain Or Dare To Wish That We Had Never Met?

Once In My Childhood I Had Been Eager To Learn Irish; I Thought To Get Leave To Take Lessons From An Old Scripture-reader Who Spent A Part Of His Time In The Parish Of Killinane, Teaching Such Scholars As He Could Find To Read Their Own Language In The Hope That They Might Turn To The Only Book Then Being Printed In Irish, The Bible.

There's More Learning Than Is Taught In Books.

In The Whole Course Of Our Work At The Theatre We Have Been, I May Say, Drenched With Advice By Friendly People Who For Years Gave Us The Reasons Why We Did Not Succeed... All Their Advice, Or At Least Some Of It, Might Have Been Good If We Had Wanted To Make Money, To Make A Common Place Of Amusement.