Love her as in childhood Through feeble, old and grey. For you’ll never miss a mother’s love Till she’s buried beneath the clay. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
I'm not one of those James Joyce intellectuals who can stand back and look at the whole edifice... It was a slow process for… — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
I admire certain priests and nuns who go off on their own and do God's work on their own, who help in the ghettos,… — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
When I act tough they listen politely till the spasm passes. They know. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
Just luxuriate in a certain memory, and the details will come. It's like a magnet attracting steel filings. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
They all went into the bar business. Which was a mistake, because they began to sip at the merchandise and it set them back,… — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
My childhood here... was very limited. So it was a long, long time before I actually went out to Brooklyn. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
We never really had any kind of a Christmas. This is one part where my memory fails me completely. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
A lot of people say writers start losing their powers after 60 or 65. But I look at the best-seller list and see a… — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
“When the dark clouds flutter like bats in my head I wish I could open a window and release them.” — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
Shakespeare is like mashed potatoes, you can never get enough of him. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
I just have to proceed as usual. No matter what happens, nothing helps with the writing of the next book. — Frank McCourt Copy Share Image
