We're on this Earth together,
And if we would be brothers,
Fight not just on your own behalf
But for the sake of others.
Rye bread will do you good,
Barley bread will do you no harm,
Wheaten bread will sweeten your blood,
Oaten bread will strengthen your arm.
There are only two kinds of people in the world,
The Irish, and those who wish they were.
When Irish eyes are smiling,
watch your step!
Life is like a cup of tea,
It's all in how you make it.
There's a dear little plant that grows on our Isle
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it,
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile,
And a t ear from his eyes oft-times wet it.
It grows through the bog, through the brake, through the mireland,
And they call it the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
The devil is good to his own in this world,
and bad to them in the next.
Drinking is the only way to find out whether or not your neck leaks!
Drink is the curse of the land.
It makes you fight with your neighbor.
It makes you shoot at your neighbor.
It makes you miss.
Some may say the glass is half empty,
Some may say the glass is half full,
But the Irish will forever say
"Are you gonna drink that?"
God invented whiskey to keep the Irish from conquering the world!
Many people will walk in and out or your life,
but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.
As the sun rises gold
Over the Emerald Isle,
May your oat's hot steam
Warm your hard work smile.
Dance as though no one is watching you,
Love as though you have never loved before,
Sing as though no one can hear you,
Live as though Heaven is on earth.
'Tis better to buy a small bouquet
And give to your friend this very day,
Than a bushel of roses white and red
To lay on his coffin after he's dead.
We cannot share this sorrow
If we haven't grieved a while.
Nor can we feel another's joy
Until we've learned to smile.
What is Irish diplomacy?
It's the ability to tell a man to go to hell,
So that he will look forward to making the trip.
Now sweetly lies old Ireland
Emerald green beyond the foam,
Awakening sweet memories,
Calling the heart back home.
If I had a flower for every time I thought of you,
I could walk through my garden forever.
In order to find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God.
The reason the Irish are always fighting each other
Is they have no other worthy opponents.
There are only two kinds of people in the world,
Celts and those who wish they were.
Happiness being a dessert so sweet
May life give you more than you can ever eat.
God invented whiskey so the Irish wouldn't rule the world. |
Near a misty stream in Ireland in the hollow of a tree
Live mystical, magical leprechauns who are clever as can be.
With pointed ears, turned up toes and little coats of green,
The leprechauns make their shoes, trying hard to ne'er be seen.
Only those who really believe have seen these little elves.
If you believe and look with your heart, you can see them yourselves.
WORRY
In the end, there are only two things to worry about:
either you are well or you are sick.
When you're well, there is nothing to worry about.
But if you're sick, then there are two things to worry about:
either you get well or you will die.
When you get well, there is nothing to worry about.
But when you die, then there are two things to worry about:
either you'll go to heaven or you'll go to hell.
When you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about.
But when you go to hell, you'll be so damn busy shaking hands with friends, you won't have time to worry!
SO WHY WORRY!?!
The Irish ne'er walk
But what they dance an Irish fling,
And Irish ne'er talk
But with lilting voices sing.
An Old Irish recipe for Longevity:
Leave the table hungry.
Leave the bed sleepy.
Leave the table thirsty.
Whenever I dream, it seems I dream Of Erin's rolling hills
Of all its lovely, shimmery lakes and little babbling rills
I hear a Colleen's lilting laugh across a meadow fair
And in my dreams its almost seems to me that I am there
O, Ireland! O', Ireland! We're Never far apart
For you and all your beauty fill my mind and touch my heart.
Ireland, it's the one place on earth
That heaven has kissed
With melody, mirth,
And meadow and mist.
If you're lucky enough to be Irish...
You're lucky enough!
Mothers and fathers hold their children's hands for just a little while...
And their hearts forever.
Do not resent growing old.
Many are denied the privilege.
A family of Irish birth will argue and fight,
but let a shout come from without,
and see them all unite.
Murphy's Law
Nothing is as easy as it looks.
Everything takes longer than you expect.
And if anything can go wrong,
It will, at the worst possible moment.
Like the goodness of the five loaves and two fishes,
Which God divided among the five thousand men,
May the blessing of the King who so divided
Be upon our share of this common meal.
May luck be our companion,
May friends stand by our side,
May history remind us all
Of Ireland's faith and pride.
To Age! To Age! Why does one care?
As the wrinkles grow longer and gray graces your hair.
Life should be simple 'cause when push comes to shove,
The only one counting is the good Lord above!
When the roaring flames of your love
have burned down to embers,
may you find that you've married your best friend.
St. Patrick was a gentleman
Who through strategy and stealth
Drove all the snakes from Ireland.
Here's toasting to his health.
But not too many toastings
Lest you lose yourself and then
Forget the good St. Patrick
And see all those snakes again.
An old Irish recipe for longevity: Leave the table hungry. Leave the bed sleepy. Leave the table thirsty.
God made the Italians for their beauty. The French for fine food. The Swedes for intelligence. The Jews for religion. And on and on until he looked at what he had created and said, "This is all very fine but no one is having fun. I guess I'll have to make me an Irishman." |
