The old man goes, ‘I’m sorry. I just can’t muster any enthusiasm for Christmas this year’

‘We’re going to buy a sh**load of frozen turkeys - if there’s a shortage I can sell them for €500 each’

‘Ronan is hanging out with the absolute scum of the earth: my old man and Hennessy Coghlan-O’Hara’

‘Dude, if you insist on coaching Blackrock, you can forget about me being your best man’

‘It’s all right for you,’ Honor goes. ‘You can have any woman you want’

‘I don’t like who my son has become since he started playing rugby. He’s full of himself’

‘There’s no such thing as academic-sporting balance. Not in schools that are serious about being winners’

This is my son now – north Dublin’s leading wine snob

‘I’m not going to call you Mister anything,’ I tell the deputy principal, and the boys all stort sniggering

Honor’s date for the debs is a looker. She clearly takes after her old man in that regord

Ronan pours the wine and goes, ‘It’s a surprising little number with notes of candyfloss, anchovies and balsawood’

‘You were mugged in Dalkey? Things like that don’t happen there’

‘I didn’t do a tap in school and yet life worked out pretty well for me’

‘The old man running a restaurant is like asking me to teach physics through Irish’

‘Rugby is the best idea we’ve ever come up with as a species,’ I go, channelling Fr Fehily

Sorcha goes, ‘The Dalkey Lobster Festival is this weekend. How am I going to show my face?’

‘I think you should have a conversation with Honor about her drinking,’ Sorcha goes

‘I got thrun out of Amedica,’ Ronan goes. ‘Me visa was revoked’

When Honor drops the news, I sit there with my mouth open like someone from Roscommon seeing escalators for the first time

The old dear made a seating plan for her own funeral. She didn’t want ugly people in the first three pews