Angela McCourt: Don't let anyone ever slam the door on you again. Do you hear me?
Older Frank: I do.
Theresa: Lord, you might be scrawny, but that's a fine boyo you have there.
Young Frank: In the name of the father, the son and the holy toast.
Mrs. Leibowitz: What is it, Malachy?
Malachy: It's a beautiful wee girl, Mrs. Liebowitz! After four boys, can you believe it? A wee girl.
Malachy: It's poor I am. It's unlucky I am. But it's useless I am not.
Young Frank: He's fatter than the baby Jesus.
Narrator: If I were in America I could say "I love you, dad", the way they do in the films. But in Limerick they'd laugh at you. In Limerick you are only allowed to say you love God, and babies, and horses that win. Anything else is softness in the head.
Narrator: It was the first time my father ever kissed me. I felt so happy I could float.
Young Frank: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a minute since my last confession.
