Quotes About Irish

May your coffin be made of the finest wood from a one-hundred-year-old tree that I'll go plant tomorrow. —TRADITIONAL IRISH BLESSING

Lei è irlandese, signor O'Hara. Dimenticare per lei non è possibile." "E lei è tedesco, signor Middlehoff. Per lei la memoria è sicuramente un peso.

Of course I want you there. But…we're Irish. We get drunk and say stupid things. I can't guarantee that someone there tonight won't say something stupid." It was tempting to answer, "I'm English. We stay sober, kick ass, and enslave your lot for eight hundred years." That would not have reduced his stress level any.

Mad gone' may mean literally 'crazy about', but in the context it makes a bad pun on Maud Gonne, the Irish activist—politically and culturally—whom W. B. Yeats, in fact, came to be 'mad gone' on, proposing several times to her, but each time turned down. Yeats, unable to get the mother, eventually proposed to Maud's daughter, Iseult, in 1917.

A lot of Irish people perform. They perform in drawing rooms. They sing songs and they play piano.

To be honest I live among the English and have always found them to be very honest in their business dealings. They are noble, hard-working and anxious to do the right thing. But joy eludes them, they lack the joy that the Irish have.

Is it about a bicycle?

They won't break me because the desire for freedom, and the freedom of the Irish people, is in my heart. The day will dawn when all the people of Ireland will have the desire for freedom to show. It is then that we will see the rising of the moon.

Kat sighed, rose, and nodded to the bartender, a guy named Pete who looked like a character actor who always played the Irish bartender—which is what, in fact, he was. Pete nodded back, indicating that he'd put the drinks on Kat's tab. "Who

It was in a stonecutter's house where I went to have a headstone made for Raftery's grave that I found a manuscript book of his poems, written out in the clear beautiful Irish characters.

The first play I wrote was called 'Twenty-five.' It was played by our company in Dublin and London, and was adapted and translated into Irish and played in America.

I was Irish; I was a woman. Yet night after night, bent over the table, I wrote in forms explored and sealed by English men hundreds of years before. I saw no contradiction.

I wrote a script. I actually enjoyed writing it more than acting. It's about the Irish rebellion of 1920, which is a fascinating period and place for me.

I'm Irish, yeah, but I don't need to get up on a soapbox about it.

I was for two years a pupil at the Model School in Fort street which was then conducted upon the Irish national system, and if any special religious instruction was given in connection with that system, I do not recollect it.

The mandate I have received and for which I will speak with heart and head to implement over the next seven years had its four pillars - an inclusive citizenship, equality and participation and respect in a creative society creating an excellence in everything we Irish do.

I connect to the tradition of Irish storytelling. And I think there is something - I can't put my finger on it - something genetic there. Maybe just a need to tell stories.

I believe in all of these Irish myths, like leprechauns. Not the pot of gold, not the Lucky Charms leprechauns. But maybe was there something in the traditional sense? I believe that this stuff came from somewhere other than people's imaginations.

Growing up, I was brought up around Irish music, Irish traditions.

Stand-up came naturally to me because people in Ireland talk. But that's not talking on panel shows; it is structured fun. It reminds me of some tragic aunt clapping her hands and bouncing into a room and announcing we should all play games... and if we don't we are all a rotten spoilsport.

I - and there are hundreds of thousands of Irishmen who felt on this subject as I do - have always liked my Celtic countrymen and disliked the English nation; it is a national trait of character, and I cannot help it.

Many people die of thirst but the Irish are born with one.

Between 1845 and 1852 the country experienced the single greatest loss of population in world history: in a nation of 8 million, 1.5 million people left. Another million Irish people starved to death, or died from the effects of hunger. Inside of a decade the nation went from being among the most densely populated in Europe to one of the least.

Irish people will tell you that, because of their sad history of dispossession, owning a home is not just a way to avoid paying rent but a mark of freedom. In their rush to freedom, the Irish built their own prisons. And their leaders helped them to do it.