I Grew Up Sort Of

The City Was Bigger Than Its Buildings, Bigger Than Its Inhabitants Too. It Had Its Own Nuances. It Accepted Whatever Came Its Way, The Crime And The Violence And The Little Shocks Of Good That Crawled Out From Underneath The Everyday.

It Was A Silence That Heard Itself, Awful And Beautiful.

The Irish Are Great For Their Tunes, But All Their Lovesongs Are Sad And Their Warsongs Happy.

Literature Can Remind Us That Not All Life Is Already Written Down: There Are Still So Many Stories To Be Told.

The Repeated Lies Become History, But They Don't Necessarily Become The Truth.