The smell (of the abattoir) made me want to throw up all the time.
This quote embodies one of the biggest ironies in this novel: Cal, in one sense, is a criminal who participates in senseless acts of violence with a terrorist organization, yet at the same time he is a highly sensitive person who finds the killing of animals in the abattoir repulsive. We can infer how Cal feels a distinction between the violence of the IRA and that of the slaughterhouse. The former for him can be somewhat justified, as he believes that in some way that the Loyalists, such as the UVF gang who stalks his house, deserve to be intimidated. The animals, on the other hand, are innocent and defenseless. His visceral rejection of the abattoir shows, though, that Cal knows in his heart that murder is wrong; it is only through his fear of the enemy he starts to rationalize the terrorism.
The next morning, Christmas Eve, almost as if he expected it, the police arrived to arrest him and he stood in a dead man's Y'fronts listening to the charge, grateful that at last someone was going to beat him within an inch of his life.
This is the last line of the novel, ending the story in a dramatic and abrupt manner. It is an illuminating quote, as it shows that the pressure of actually waiting to be caught was greater on Cal than the fear of being beaten up or imprisoned. It also demonstrates his tendency to wait for an outside force to make him feel better instead of taking initiative and finding out a way to do it for himself. He doesn't want to admit what he has done to Marcella, or even to himself, and thus he feels relieved that the authorities are going to reveal the truth it for him. This line also shows that Cal felt there was an inevitability to his arrest, that his past mistake is something irreversible.
[I]t has to be done—by somebody. Because we have committed ourselves, Cahal, it is our responsibility. We have to make the sacrifices.
Here, Skeffington is explaining to Cal why he and others in the movement commit atrocities. From his point of view, everything from robbery to murder to bombings are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause: the autonomy of Northern Irish Catholics. This attitude is a convenient excuse for Skeffington, who is being questioned by Cal about how he can hurt others with no remorse. By framing terrorists as martyrs, Skeffington rationalizes his own actions as well as tries to manipulate Cal into agreeing to be their pawn.
He settled back for the sermon. He liked this time. It was a time of comfort, of hearing but not listening. The noise of the words kept him from thinking his own black thoughts and yet the words themselves were not interesting enough to make him think of them.
This line comes in the scene where Cal visits the Catholic church, the same one attended by Marcella, for Sunday morning Mass. It is insinuated that Cal does not go to church because he is particularly pious, but more so because he enjoys the feeling of comfort and safety that the refuge of the church provides. It is a break from his typical fear and paranoia when at home, where he knows that at any moment the Loyalist army can bust through his door and kill him. More deeply, the service is a type of escape from his own inner torment, his "black thoughts" that constantly bring him back to guilt and self-hatred. Later on in the story, Cal remembers how as a boy he also liked to fall asleep to the sound of his family talking, hearing the words but not listening. The sermon at church is thus a sort of background noise that brings Cal back to simpler times of childhood, when things were less complicated.
I can't put up with this much longer.
Shamie says this to Cal during their visit, after their house has been burned down. The loss of all their belongings has sent Cal's father into a deep depression and Cal is shocked to find him teary and distressed. Cal suggests Shamie go to the doctor, and Shamie relents, noting that he can't take being depressed much longer. This scene and the degree of Shamie's downturn emphasize the great physical and psychological damage that resulted from the terrorism of this era. Although Shamie was never directly a part of the Troubles, through Cal's own foolish actions he became implicated and his life almost ruined.
He felt that he had a brand stamped in blood in the middle of his forehead which would take him the rest of his life to purge.
This quote comes during a flashback of the night Cal and Crilly murdered Robert Morton. After the crime is committed and the men return to the school dance, Cal can't help but feel the gravity of his actions. Unlike Crilly, who seems to brush off the whole incident as if it was nothing, Cal recognizes that this crime has "stamped" him for life. This proves accurate, as a year later in the present of the novel Cal deals constantly with the burden of his guilt and sees how it impacts everything in his life.
If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.
Crilly says this in response to Cal's protest of continuing to help the movement. Skeffington and Crilly describe the troubles between Republicans and Loyalists as a full-out war, and are convinced that everyone must take a side. This is a typical mentality of those who commit acts of terror. Violence is seen as the only possible solution to the "problem" of the enemy. Cal's desire not to participate is regarded as a sign of complacency and thus is a threat. In the background of their conversation, there is the unspoken suggestion of Crilly and Skeffington that if Cal refuses to help, they will have to hurt him.
Once you've been through a tragedy you're scared of it ever after.
Mrs. Morton says this to Cal the morning after he is discovered squatting in their cottage. Right after this happened, Mrs. Morton was very shocked and angry with Cal, but now the next day, her emotions have calmed somewhat. This quote demonstrates a sort of apology for her anger; she explains that because of the past tragedy of losing her son, any disturbances cause her much stress and worry. Ironically, it is Cal who was responsible for this initial trauma; something which he of course can't reveal to her.
Did you ever do anything—really bad?
While spending time with Marcella, Cal asks her this question to test the waters for a possible confession of his most severe sin: his murder of Robert Morton. One part of Cal desires nothing more than to get this off his chest, so that he can relate more naturally with Marcella. Yet at the same time he knows the impossibility of such honesty, and how it would actually ruin their relationship. By asking Marcella about the worst thing she's done, he tries to assess if she is anywhere as sinful as him. But her somewhat innocent response makes it clear that his wrongdoing is in a whole other league. Though joyful in one way to be with Marcella, Cal also feels miserable to realize that he is unable to speak the truth to her.
I think that's a terrible thing about marriage. You have to move away from your own home to be with your husband and leave your friends. Then bang—you're left without anything.
This quote encapsulates the isolation that Marcella feels and also explains why she has chosen to connect with Cal, an otherwise unlikely match for her. Marcella is an Italian Catholic who moved to Ireland with her husband, Robert Morton, an Irish Protestant. She knew nobody but committed herself to this new and unfamiliar life because she loved her husband. Then suddenly he is murdered and she is left alone, with no partner and no real social connections. This terrible sense of loneliness is perhaps what draws her to Cal, who is somewhat of a loner figure himself.
