When I told the people of Northern Ireland that I was an atheist, a woman in the audience stood up and said, “Yes, but is it the God of the Catholics or the God of the Protestants in whom you don’t believe?”
There is a story that when incoming jets throttle back for the approach to Belfast’s Aldergrove Airport, the pilots tell their passengers to put their watches back to local time – 1690.
A fine place, with rough people.
The Irish say your trouble is their trouble and your joy their joy? I wish I could believe it; I am troubled, I’m dissatisfied, I’m Irish.
I have never met anyone in Ireland who understood the Irish Question, except one Englishman who had only been there a week.
The Irish Leprechaun is the Fairies’ shoemaker and is known under various names in different parts of Ireland: Cluricaune in Cork, Lurican in Kerry, Lurikeen in Kildare and Lurigadaun in Tipperary. Although he works for the Fairies, the Leprechaun is not of the same species. He is small, has dark skin and wears strange clothes. […]
This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever. (about the Irish)
I don’t think there’s any point in being Irish if you don’t know that the world is going to break your heart eventually.
God created whiskey to keep the Irish from taking over the world.
The Irish have a certain affinity for death, an interest in talking about it and thinking about it. I mean of course the real Irish, not these big, beefy blonds of no known ethnic origin, but Irish-Americans who still bear the mark of their ancestral pains and habits. They used to say the Irish like […]