Quotes from Irvine Welsh

Leave it man. Squirrel's botherin nae cunt likesay! Ah hate it the wey Mark's intae hurtin animals… it's wrong man. Ye cannae love yirsel if ye want tae hurt things like that… ah mean… what hope is thir? The squirrel's likes fuckin lovely. He's daein his ain thing. He's free. That's mibble what Rents cannae stand. The squirrel's free man.

The disease which racked his body was a sweetheart compared to the more obscure one that possessed his sick mind.

Hasta qué punto puede alguien conocer de verdad a cualquier otra persona?

They call um Sick Boy, no because he's eywis sick wi junk withdrawal, but because he's just one sick cunt.

USA. The land of the free; where you accent didn't matter. But he supposed everybody related to it; movies, TV, fat-food, outlets, you grew up with it. Cultural imperialism. Yet no wonder everybody increasingly hated it: it was stupid, self-serving and so in-your-face that it was setting itself up to be despised

Ah love nothing (except junk), ah hate nothing (except forces that prevent me getting any) and ah fear nothing (except not scoring).

downtown Johannesburg just looked like a large Muirhouse-in-the-sun to

If only he loved himself as much as he loved the rest of the world.

É, o mundo moderno tem um tipo de seleção natural e não tem jeito de eu me encaixar nessa história não. Os bichano tipo eu acabam tudo extinto.

He was a very arrogant young man, so full of himself.

Bazen insanlar?n junkie olmay? fark?nda olmadan s?rf bir parça sessizlik istedikleri için seçtiklerini düÅŸünürüm.

It could have been suicide or an accident, or perhaps that grey area in between.

Las historias de drogas son como las historias de sueños o de polvos: solo te interesan si son tuyas.

Ah made yous cunts in ma ain image. Yous git oan wi it; yous fuckin well sort it oot. That cunt Nietzsche wis wide ay the mark when he sais ah wis deid. Ah'm no deid; ah jist dinnae gie a fuck. It's no fir me tae sort every cunt's problems oot. Nae other cunt gies a fuck so how should ah? Eh?

Quien bien te quiere te hará llorar, dice el refrán. Yo soy la prueba viviente de que es lo mejor. A ver, que a mí nunca me verás tener problemas de ninguna clase con la poli desde hace ya mucho. Me aprendí la puta lección: no me meto en líos y los evito todo lo posible. Lo único que le pido a la vida es beber un poco, el fútbol y echar un polvo de vez en cuando.

you were better making history than studying it.

Kev shuddered. This was crazy, but there it was; his name, spelt by an insect... — Boab? Is that really you? Fuckin hell! Eh, buzz twice fir aye, once fir naw. Two buzzes. — Did eh, what's his name, did God dae this? Two buzzes. — Whit the fuck ur ye gaunny dae? Frantic buzzing. — Sorry Boab... kin ah git ye anything? Scran, likesay?

Spud has two expressions: totally-scoobied-as-to-what-the-fuck's-going-on and the constantly-on-the-verge-of-tears look he is currently deploying. Assailed with self pity and self loathing, regarding his folly in sitting next to Begbie, he glances around. - Aye... it's bad, like say, he concedes, wondering how he can manoeuvre into another seat.

They disembark like pieces of broken crockery being poured out of a packing case.

Two choices; one: tough it oot, back in the room, two: phone that cunt Forrester and go tae Muirhoose, get fucked aboot and ripped oaf wi some crap gear. Nae contest. In twenty minutes it wis: — Muirhoose pal? tae the driver oan the 32 bus and quiveringly stickin ma forty-five pence intae the the box. Any port in a storm, and it's raging in here behind ma face.

Las convenciones siempre nos imponen su locura en los momentos menos apropiados.

There's nae reasoning wi some cats. You say 'reason', they mew 'treason'. Ken?

No tears come, and it would be pointless, like trying to empty a reservoir of grief by drip feed. I'm being daft.

You can't lie to your soul.