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Quote by Mary O'Connell

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Mary O'Connell

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“For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain, crying aloud for mercy, and let there be no surcease to this agony till he sing in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails in token of the worm that dieth not, and when at last he goeth to his last punishment, let the flames of hell consume him for ever. Curse on book thieves, from the monastery of San Pedro, Barcelona, Spain”

“THE CURSE May they never Return home at night... May you have no part of eventide, May you have no room of your own, Nor road, nor return. May your days be all exactly the same, Five Fridays in a row, Always an unlucky Tuesday, No Sunday, May you have no more little worries, Tears or inspiration, For you yourself are the greatest worry on earth: Prisoner!”

“I, Rooster John Byron, hereby place a curse Upon the Kennet and Avon Council, May they wander the land for ever, Never sleep twice in the same bed, Never drink water from the same well, And never cross the same river twice in a year. He who steps in my blood, may it stick to them Like hot oil. May it scorch them for life, And may the heat dry up their souls, And may they be filled with the melancholy Wine won't shift. And all their newborn babies Be born mangled, with the same marks, The same wounds of their fathers. Any uniform which brushes a single leaf of this wood Is cursed, and he who wears it this St George's Day, May he not see the next.”