There was so much alcoholic misery in Bridget's life that you would think she'd have been thrilled to work in a Quaker here or Lutheran there to more of less water down this trait. My grandfather, Sheamus, drank fairly all day every day. He was something to behold. (Chapter 1, p. 8)

Like other mothers at this time, she wasn't born knowing about vitamins or taught nutrition at school, so she honestly believed that as long as I was full I was fine. The way you're trained is the way you're trained, and so ill-eating habits passed with ease through generations. (Chapter 3, p. 22)

Listen and hear what the men call their wives when they come to fetch them . . . Rarely, rarely though you will hear a woman called from the store by her name, which is best, So listen for each time Richard Bethune comes to the door and calls, Amanda...