“And be thinking, remembering. Trying to. All difficult dark stuff, stories stuffed away, like old socks into old pillowcases. Not quite knowing the weight of truth in them much more. And things that I have let be a long time… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“As I do not seem able much to heal, then maybe I can simply be a responsible witness to the miracle of the ordinary… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“In the darkness as we lie side by side John Cole's left hand snakes over under the sheets and takes a hold of my… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“His people had hogs there till the bottom fell out of hogs. The bottom was always falling out of something in America far as… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“Spring comes into Massachusetts with her famous flame. God’s breath warming the winter out of things” — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
And whatever my life had been up to that day, it was another life after that. And that is the gospel truth. — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“The knives opened the flesh like they were painting paintings of a new country, sheer plains of dark land, with the red rivers bursting… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“I suppose therefore God is the connoisseur of filthied hearts and souls, and can see the old, the first pattern in them, and cherish… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“There is a craziness in it all that betokens a kind of delicious freedom. Notions are cast off. If only for a moment. They… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
He loved telling stories. He had been everywhere in the world. The northwest frontier, the landscape of the Hindu Kush, was one of the… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“Our smiles mostly for each other, and every stranger a possible demon or bear, till they proved otherwise” — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“It is always worth itemizing happiness, there is so much of the other thing in a life, you had better put down the markers… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
“I wonder if I were to have an X-ray at the little hospital, would the machine see my grief? Is it like rust, arheum… — Sebastian Barry Copy Share Image
