Quotes About Irish

Now it's not just my lip you'll be needing to kiss if you're wishing to make amends with me, Irish.

We Irish know how to make the most of the times of plenty, for sure enough they'll be famine again.

He was Irish to the fingertips. He could laugh and he could create laughter. He had a funny way of looking at things—at some things, I should say.

You can't sneeze in Dublin without somebody saying 'God bless you' in Kerry.

The police force was dominantly Irish, and the official investigation of the riot indicated the police helped the rioters: "… it appears that charges of unprovoked and most brutal clubbing have been made against policemen, with the result that they were reprimanded or fined a day's pay and were yet retained upon the force.

My father was a schoolteacher once before he became an engineer and breac is a word, he explains, that the Irish people brought with them when they were crossing over into the English language. It means speckled, dappled, flecked, spotted, coloured. A trout is brack and so is a speckled horse. A barm brack is a loaf of bread with raisins in it and was borrowed from the Irish words bairín breac. So we are the speckled-Irish, the brack-Irish. Brack home-made Irish bread with German raisins.

This is the main advantage of ether: it makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel... total loss of all basic motor skills: Blurred vision, no balance, numb tongue - severance of all connection between the body and the brain. Which is interesting, because the brain continues to function more or less normally... you can actually watch yourself behaving in the terrible way, but you can't control it.

I'm not sure I would make a direct connection between having press attention as a young person and being interested in the media as an older person. I came to it more organically, coming from a family of Irish Catholic storytellers. Storytelling is a pastime and important part of my family's history and culture.

My father and his brothers and sisters were childhood Irish jig champions in the Bronx. At our family celebrations, they all get out and do the jig. And of course, the younger generation, me and my cousins and my brothers, we have our own Americanized renditions of the Irish jig, which is a bit more like 'Lord of the Dance.'

I spent my entire Irish Catholic youth in a constant state of guilt over imaginary sins. I learned that nothing is a sin as long as you don't take pleasure from it.

I went into the world confident my tea training would open many doors. And I did particularly well with the Irish and fellow Nova Scotians over 60. But this only got me so far. It took a long time to cultivate the tricks of easy social interaction.

I'm Irish. That means I'm Catholic. But, truth is, now I'm a retired Christian.

There is that much to be done that no select or small portion of people can do; only the greater mass of the Irish nation will ensure the achievement of a Socialist Republic, and this can only be done by hard work and sacrifice.

I like Guinness, and that will make anyone Irish. That and soda bread, and I'm good to go.

For my last meal, I'd want an Irish breakfast with soda bread and one of my dad's omelettes with three or four eggs.

I make a mean Irish soda bread every Christmas and give it out to friends and family.

There is not a single injustice in Northern Ireland that is worth the loss of a single British soldier or a single Irish citizen either.

Because you´re not a one night girl Irish.' Leaning in to place a kiss on my jawline he whispers, 'You're my forever girl.

Being Irish, I always had this love of words.

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.From an Irish headstone

Milly's narrative skill was considerable... she brought a scene to life by a chance descriptive detail in the right place and by that graphic and right placing of words which most of the Irish excel at. She had no Irish blarney, she never exaggerated. I could listen to Milly for hours.

You are full of shit, Sawyer O'Donnell. I believe that you invented the Blarney Stone instead of kissed it.

an old-fashioned Irish bar called County Cork, all dark and comforting on the inside, an ancient bar worn and lovingly shined that curved around, and a smell that permeated the place—welcoming and old and mellow. She slid into a booth that was done in black leather, worn and soft and smelling of beer and whiskey with just a hint of salted peanuts. The large room was dim, nearly empty

Either somebody has equal rights, or they don't. And certainly in the Irish constitution, marriage is genderless. There's no mention of a man and a woman.