I think coming from a big family, it helps you to keep your sense of humor about certain things... even politics.
We cannot give up hope. It's our most important gift.
After Joe passed away in the war, it seemed only natural that Jack and Bobby and then Teddy might pursue office as well. Public service was part of our DNA from our earliest years.
When I protested because they wouldn't buy me new skates or if someone complained a teacher gave too much homework, Dad would respond: There's no whining in this house. It was his way of saying: there is no place in this house for feeling sorry for yourself.
But I believe Ireland is getting more European, and the young are looking toward Europe for jobs - just as there are a lot of Europeans coming to Dublin.
I tried to explain in 'The Nine of Us' how we grew up with politics. At meals we talked about what was in the newspaper. We talked politics non-stop! Campaigning for our brothers was a part of our lives.
In Bronxville, New York, we went to public school there, before London. Mother had a great belief in public school. She said it was very good for us to meet all the neighborhood kids.
My father was a very powerful influence, well, always, through our life. He taught us very much that... we were very lucky and that we should make a contribution to country, that we were fortunate to live in America.
The Irish people were willing to take me at face value, to give me the benefit of the doubt because I was a Kennedy. I think being a Kennedy was extremely helpful.
I never sat down and said, 'Now I must make a contribution, that one person can make a difference.' But I felt I was in a position where I could contribute. I never thought of it in the light of history or my brothers. I just felt I had an obligation.
Even though I was there through it all, it is hard for me to comprehend that I was growing up with brothers who would eventually occupy the highest offices of our nation, including president of the United States.
I can say without reservation that I do not remember a day in our childhood without laughter.