Line(s) of the Day #WeHaveAlwaysLivedintheCastle

We Have Always Lived in The castle

I remember that I stood on the library steps holding my books and looking for a minute at the soft hinted green in the branches against the sky and wishing, as I always did, that I could walk home across the sky instead of through the village.

The novella masterpiece We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962) by Gothic writer Shirley Jackson, who also wrote one of the finest short stories with The Lottery (1948). As told by the unreliable narrator Mary Katherine ‘Merrikat’ Blackwood, it tells of a family’s ostracising in a small town after a poisoning incident that killed four members of the family.

Gr8at- Father Ted

Father Ted Crilly

With a violent drunken priest, a simple-minded idiot and an eccentric housekeeper as company, Father Ted Crilly had quite the supporting cast. Affectionately able to mock Catholicism, Ireland and small town characters, there may well never be a sitcom like Father Ted. 

Father Ted: His note from the bishop said they never really found a suitable place for him… he’s not a very nice man, is he?
Father Dougal: God, Ted. I’ve never met anyone like him anywhere… who would he be like – Hitler or one of those mad fellas.
Father Ted: Oh, worse than Hitler. You wouldn’t find Hitler playing jungle music at 3 o’clock in the morning.

Father Dougal: Who would have thought being hit by lightening would land you in hospital?
Father Ted: What? What are you talking about? Of course it can land you in hospital
Father Dougal: Well it’s not usually serious is it Ted. I mean, I was hit by lightening a few times and I never had to go to hospital.
Father Ted: Yes Dougal, but you’re different from most people. All that happened to you was that balloons kept sticking to you.

Father Dougal: God Ted, I’ve heard about those cults. Everyone dressing in black and saying our Lord’s going to come back and judge us all.
Father Ted: No… no Dougal, that’s us. That’s Catholicism you’re talking about there.

Mrs. Doyle: There’s always time for a nice cup of tea. Sure, didn’t the Lord himself pause for a nice cup of tea before giving himself up for the world.
Father Ted: No, he didn’t, Mrs Doyle!
Mrs. Doyle: Well, whatever the equivalent they had for tea in those days, cake or something. And speaking of cake, I have cake!
Father Ted: No, thanks, Mrs. Doyle.
Mrs. Doyle: Are you sure, Father? There’s cocaine in it!
Father Ted: WHAT?
Mrs. Doyle: Oh, no, not cocaine. God, what am I on about? No, what d’you call them. Raisins.

Father Ted: I’m not a fascist, I’m a priest. Fascists go round dressed in black telling people what to do, whereas priests… er… More drink!

Mrs. Doyle: Are you looking forward to your lunch tomorrow, Father?
Father Ted: Hmmm? I suppose so.
Mrs. Doyle: You do like pheasant, don’t you Father?
Father Ted: Pheasant? I love pheasant.
Mrs. Doyle: Well there’s a little clue. The thing you’ll be eating likes pheasant as well.

Father Ted: The holy stone… It must be even holier than we thought. Perhaps it’s something to do with that fellow who came over from England last year. He touched it – and he grew a beard!
Father Dougal: Wow. Weird. That’d be nearly enough to upgrade it to a Class 1.
Father Ted: Ooh, Class 1’d be very rare. That’d be bringing people back to life… time travel… cloning dinosaurs… Very rare.

Father Ted: Dougal, you don’t think I offended those Chinese people?
Father Dougal: I don’t know ted. It’s like that time we did the variety show and you decided to do that impression of Stephen Hawking
Father Ted: Well he’s the last person you’d expect to turn up. That was a million-to-one chance. God, he can fairly move in that wheelchair when he’s angry.