It's great to be on your own for a bit, in the sun, and in the country. That's one thing you never were in Walton. Nor any other prison, I suppose. For all their solitary confinement you were watched and your every moment — even at times when you'd give a dog a bit of privacy. What they call in Irish — "Uaigneas gan ciuneas" — loneliness without peace.
Borstal Boy (1958)