Flann O'Brien
Flann O'Brien
Brian O'Nolanwas an Irish novelist, playwright and satirist, considered a major figure in twentieth century Irish literature. Born in Strabane, County Tyrone, he is regarded as a key figure in postmodern literature. His English language novels, such as At Swim-Two-Birds, and The Third Policeman, were written under the nom de plume Flann O'Brien. His many satirical columns in The Irish Times and an Irish language novel An Béal Bocht were written under the name Myles na gCopaleen...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth5 October 1911
CountryIreland
Some savage faculty for observation told him that most respectable and estimable people usually had a lot of books in their houses.
The first beginnings of wisdom...is to ask questions but never to answer any.
The gross and net result of it is that people who spend most of their natural lives riding iron bicycles over the rocky roadsteads of this parish get their personalities mixed up with the personalities of their bicycle as a result of the interchanging of the atoms of each of them and you would be surprised at the number of people in these parts who nearly are half people and half bicycles.
Rome wasn't built in A.D.
Hell goes round and round. In shape it is circular, and by nature it is interminable, repetitive, and nearly unbearable.
Anybody who has the courage to raise his eyes and look sanely at the awful human condition ... must realize finally that tiny periods of temporary release from intolerable suffering is the most that any individual has the right to expect.
A wise old owl once lived in a wood, the more he heard the less he said, the less he said the more he heard, let's emulate that wise old bird.
My father...was a man who understood all dogs thoroughly and treated them like human beings.
Your talk," I said, "is surely the handiwork of wisdom because not one word of it do I understand.
When a man sleeps, he is steeped and lost in a limp toneless happiness: awake he is restless, tortured by his body and the illusion of existence. Why have men spent the centuries seeking to overcome the awakened body? Put it to sleep, that is a better way. Let it serve only to turn the sleeping soul over, to change the blood-stream and thus make possible a deeper and more refined sleep.
I suppose we all have our recollections of our earlier holidays, all bristling with horror.
When things go wrong and will not come right, Though you do the best you can, When life looks black as the hour of night, A PINT OF PLAIN IS YOUR ONLY MAN.
It is clear enough that you are making some distinction in what you said, that there is some nicety of terminology in your words. I can't quite follow you.
Moderation, we find, is an extremely difficult thing to get in this country.