“laughter filling that end of the ward, overflowing, one bringing a chair for Eleanora, another a cup of coffee, marveling that at… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“Strindberg came to the rescue. Why, he had asked her, did every woman he ever met have to bring her bloody mother… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“Horses are the ruination of everyone, your father has a craze for them but then we all do crazy things.” — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“is the unseen guest at every table, the silent listener to every conversation”—her mother thereby inferring that she too would be the… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
Countries are either mothers or fathers, and engender the emotional bristle secretly reserved for either sire. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“Oh, God, who does not exist, you hate women, otherwise you'd have made them different. And Jesus, who snubbed your mother, you… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“the lonely evening sound of the mothers, saying it is not our fault that we weep so, it is nature’s fault that… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“remember love is all bull, the only true love is that between mother and child.” — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
Oh, God, who does not exist, you hate women, otherwise you'd have made them different. And Jesus, who snubbed your mother, you… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“A mother with an infant but without a father was not welcomed in the new world. “You kilt it.” “She kilt it.”… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
What we forgot as children is that our parents are children, also. The child in them has not been satisfied or met… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“My mother is dead, my mother is dead,” she kept saying it in her numbed state, because it had not sunk in.… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“I would not leave a mother alone in her plight. They described how she had kept the news of my brother’s death… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
... a country encapsulates our childhood and those lanes, byres, fields, flowers, insects, suns, moons and stars are forever reoccurring. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
I crossed the room, and what you did was to feel my hair over and over again and in different ways, touch it, with… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
Ordinary life bypassed me, but I also bypassed it. It couldn't have been any other way.Conventional life and conventional people are not for me. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
History is said to be written by the victors. Fiction, by contrast, is largely the work of injured bystanders. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“A healer! The beauty of the word a balm. In a mounting astonishment she hears how this man heals with his own blood, pricks… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“If I could feel like myself I’d thank God but I don’t feel and never will.” — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too,… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
