What shall I say about the Irish?
The utterly impractical, never predictable,
Something irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.
Strange blend of shyness, pride and conceit
And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.
He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight,
Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight.
His eyes are the quickest to well up in tears,
Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears.
His faith is as fierce as his devotion is grand
And there's no middle ground on which he will stand.
He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad,
He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad.
He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies,
He's enamored with beauty wherever it lies.
He's victor and victim, a star and a clod,
But mostly he's Irish and in love with his God.
Ireland is where strange tales begin
and happy endings are possible.
God bless the corners of this house and all the lintel blessed.
And bless the hearth and bless the board
and bless each place of rest.
And bless each door that opens wide
to strangers as to kin.
And bless each crystal window pane that lets the starlight in
and bless the rooftree overhead.
And every sturdy wall.
The peace of man, the peace of God.
The peace or love on all.
God then made man.
The Italian for their beauty.
The French for fine food.
The Swedes for intelligence.
The Jew 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."
May misfortune follow you the rest of your life,
but never catch up.
As the green hills of home are drenched with raindrops
Like a mother's tears of joy when her child
comes home from the sea,
So does my heart weep
when we are sometimes parted, you from me.
Therefore let us make this pact, to let love bind us, one to another,
To always return, 'ere the green hills' grasses turn brown.
May we live in peace without weeping.
May our joy outline the lives we touch without ceasing.
And may our love fill the world, angel wings tenderly beating.
The race of men named the Gael,
Is a race God surely made mad.
For all of their wars are merry
And all of their loves are sad.
Marry a mountain girl
and you marry the whole mountain.
--Irish Proverb
May your laugh, your love and your wine be plenty,
thus your happiness will be nothing less.
I wish you health, I wish you well, and happiness galore.
I wish you luck for you and friends; what could I wish you more?
May your joys be as deep as the oceans, your troubles as light as its foam.
And may you find, sweet peace of mind, where ever you may roam.
May your blessings outnumber
the shamrocks that grow,
And may trouble avoid you
wherever you go.
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May God bless and keep in good health your enemies, enemies.
A toast to your coffin.
May it be made of 100 year old oak.
And may we plant the tree together, tomorrow.
Beannachtam na Femle Padraig
"Happy St. Patrick's Day!"
Dance as if no one were watching,
Sing as if no one were listening,
And live every day as if it were your last.
May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future.
May your home always be too small to hold all your friends.
May you...
Work like you don't need the money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
Dance like no-one is watching,
Screw like it's being filmed,
And drink like a true Irishman.
I wish you a small cabin, but not too small
Many its lucky paths, ready like an inn.
I wish you a great lake of ale for the King of Kings
And the family of Heaven to be drinking of it through life and time.
I wish the citizens of Heaven in this house
and vessels of peace to be given to them.
I wish vessels full of alms to be giving away
And ridges of mercy for peace-making.
I wish you Love and Joy in your drinking
And Christ Jesus here among you.
Paraphrase of "The Hymn of St. Bridget,"
and "Marbhan's Hymn of Contentment"
as recorded by Lady Augusta Gregory.
God is good, but never dance in a small boat.
Sláinte!
(roughly pronounced as if you quickly slurred: "It’s a lawn chair!")
"To Your Health!"
Céad Míle Fáilte!
(roughly pronounced: "Kay mee FALL-shuh!")
"One hundred thousand welcomes!"
May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
May there always be work for your hands to do,
May your purse always hold a coin or two.
May the sun always shine warm on your windowpane,
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you,
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
May those who love us love us.
And those that don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn’t turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we’ll know them by their limping.
The reason the Irish are always fighting each other
Is they have no other worthy opponents.
May you live as long as you want,
And never want as long as you live.
May your glass be ever full.
May the roof over your head be always strong.
And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Here’s to a fellow who smiles
When life runs along like a song.
And here’s to the lad who can smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
Here’s to a long life and a merry one.
A quick death and an easy one.
A pretty girl and an honest one.
A cold beer—and another one!
May the Good Lord take a liking to you,
... but not too soon!
As you slide down the bannister of life,
May the splinters never point the wrong way.
An old Irish recipe for longevity:
Leave the table hungry.
Leave the bed sleepy.
Leave the table thirsty.
Here’s to temperance supper,
With water in glasses tall,
And coffee and tea to end with—
And me not there at all!
Always remember to forget
The things that made you sad.
But never forget to remember
The things that made you glad.
Always remember to forget
The friends that proved untrue.
But never forget to remember
Those that have stuck by you.
Always remember to forget
The troubles that passed away.
But never forget to remember
The blessings that come each day.
If you’re enough lucky to be Irish...
You’re lucky enough!
‘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.
May the blessings of each day
Be the blessings you need most.
Life is like a cup of tea,
it’s all in how you make it!
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.
I complained that I had no shoes
Until I met a man who had no feet.
It’s easy to be pleasant when life flows by like a song.
But the man worth while is the one who can smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble
And it always comes with years.
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
Is the smile that shines through the tears.
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.
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.
May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend.
An Irish method for tackling problems:
There comes a time when you must take the bull
By the tail and face the situation squarely.
May the leprechauns be near you,
To spread luck along your way.
And may all the Irish angels,
Smile upon you St. Patrick’s Day.
May the joys of today
Be those of tomorrow.
The goblets of life
Hold no dregs of sorrow.
May the saddest day of your future be no worse
Than the happiest day of your past.
Health and a long life to you.
Land without rent to you.
A child every year to you.
And if you can’t go to heaven,
May you at least die in Ireland.
An Irishman is never drunk as long as
He can hold onto one blade of grass and not
Fall off the face of the earth.
May you have:
No frost on your spuds,
No worms on your cabbage.
May your goat give plenty of milk.
And if you inherit a donkey,
May she be in foal.
May you live long,
Die happy,
And rate a mansion in heaven.
May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.
May the luck of the Irish possess you.
May the devil fly off with your worries.
May God bless you forever and ever.
Ireland, sir, for good or evil,
No other place under Heaven.
And no man can touch its sod
Or breathe its air without becoming
Better or worse.
There are only two kinds of people in the world,
The Irish
And those who wish they were.
You’re not as young as you used to be.
But...
You’re not as old as you’re going to be.
So watch it!
Do not resent growing old.
Many are denied the privilege.
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.
Here’s to you and yours
And to mine and ours.
And if mine and ours
Ever come across to you and yours,
I hope you and yours will do
As much for mine and ours
As mine and ours have done
For you and yours!
May the most you wish for
Be the least you get.
May the luck of the Irish
Lead to happiest heights
And the highway you travel
Be lined with green lights.
Grant me a sense of humor, Lord,
The saving grace to see a joke,
To win some happiness from life,
And pass it on to other folk.
Ireland, it’s the one place on earth
That heaven has kissed
With melody, mirth,
And meadow and mist.
May your troubles be less
And your blessings be more.
And nothing but happiness
Come through your door.
May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks.
May your heart be as light as a song.
May each day bring you bright happy hours,
That stay with you all year long.
For each petal on the shamrock
This brings a wish your way—
Good health, good luck, and happiness
For today and every day.
May your heart be warm and happy
With the lilt of Irish laughter
Every day in every way
And forever and ever after.
Now sweetly lies old Ireland
Emerald green beyond the foam,
Awakening sweet memories,
Calling the heart back home.
May the blessings of light be upon you,
Light without and light within.
And in all your comings and goings,
May you ever have a kindly greeting
From them you meet along the road.
May brooks and trees and singing hills
Join in the chorus, too.
And every gentle wind that blows
Send happiness to you.
Wherever you go and whatever you do,
May the luck of the Irish be there with you.
May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings,
Slow to make enemies,
And quick to make friends.
But rich or poor, quick or slow,
May you know nothing but happiness
From this day forward.
May the face of every good news
And the back of every bad news
Be toward us.
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 you have food and raiment,
A soft pillow for your head,
May you be forty years in heaven
Before the devil knows you’re dead.
The health of all Ireland
and of County Mayo,
And when that much is dead,
may we still be on the go.
From the County of Meath,
the health of the hag.
Not of her but her drink
is the reason we brag.
Your health one and all,
from one wall to the other,
And you outside there—
speak up, brother!
May the strength of three be in your journey.
May peace and plenty be the first
To lift the latch on your door,
And happiness be guided to your home
By the candle of Christmas.
May your right hand always
Be stretched out in friendship
And never in want.
May there be a fox on your fishing hook
And a hare on your bait
And may you kill no fish
Until St. Brigid’s Day.
“I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society,
except that which makes to road safer, the beer stronger,
the old men and women warmer in the winter, and happier in the summer.”
—Brendan Behan
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all that we will know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you and I sigh.
—William Butler Yeats
The problem with some people is that
when they aren’t drunk they’re sober.
—William Butler Yeats
A statesman is an easy man, he tells his lies by rote.
A journalist invents his lies, and rams them down your throat.
So stay at home and drink your beer and let the neighbors vote.
—William Butler Yeats
May you live all the days of your life.
— Jonathan Swift
Here’s to beefsteak when you’re hungry,
Whiskey when you’re dry,
All the women you’ll ever want,
And heaven when you die.
Here’s to fine wine, women, and song.
And here’s to workdays that aren’t too long.
Here’s to shoes that always fit.
And here’s to you, you silly shit!
There are good ships, and there are wood ships,
The ships that sail the sea.
But the best ships, are friendships,
And may they always be.
May the roof above us never fall in.
And may the friends gathered below it never fall out.
Here’s to a sweetheart, a bottle, and a friend.
The first beautiful, the second full, the last ever faithful.
Forsake not an old friend, for the new is not comparable to him.
A new friend is as new wine: when it is old, thou shalt drink it with pleasure.
Here’s a toast to your enemies’ enemies!
Who is a friend but someone to toast,
Someone to gibe, someone to roast.
My friends are the best friends
Loyal, willing and able.
Now let’s get to drinking!
Glasses off the table!
May the grass grow long on the road to hell for want of use.
May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend.
May you have warm words on a cold evening,
A full moon on a dark night,
And the road downhill all the way to your door.
May there be a generation of children
On the children of your children.
Here’s that we may always have
A clean shirt
A clean conscience
And a punt in our pocket.
Here’s to health and prosperity,
To you and all your posterity.
And them that doesn’t drink with sincerity,
That they may be damned for all eternity!
Rye bread will do you good,
Barely bread will do you no harm,
Wheaten bread will sweeten your blood,
Oaten bread will strengthen your arm.
May you live to be a hundred years,
With one extra year to repent!
May I see you grey
And combing your grandchildren’s hair.
May the Lord keep you in His hand
And never close His fist too tight.
May your neighbors respect you,
Trouble neglect you,
The angels protect you,
And heaven accept you.
Mothers [fathers] hold their children’s hands for just a little while...
And their hearts forever.
But the greatest love--the love above all loves,
Even greater than that of a mother...
Is the tender, passionate, undying love,
Of one beer drunken slob for another.
--Irish love ballad
'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember.
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up a lay down by my side.
Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"You can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses."
At that the pig got up and walked away!
--"The Irish Pig"
Here's to Eileen O'Hara,
For her life it held no terror.
Born a virgin.
Died a virgin.
No runs, no hits, no errors.
Here's a health to all those that we love,
Here's a health to all those that love us,
Here's a health to all those that love them...
that love those
that love them
that love those
that love us.
JOKE
This Irish guy shows up in a pub one day and orders
three pints of Guinness. He takes sips from each glass
until they are empty and calls the bartender for three
more. The bartender says, "hey, pal, I don't mind
bringing one at a time, then they'll be fresh and cold."
"Nah... ahm preferrin' that ya bring 'em three at a time.
You see, me and me two brothers would meet at a pub
and drink and have good times. Now one is in Australia,
the other in Canada and I'm here. We agreed before we
split up that we'd drink this way to each other's honor."
"Well," says the bartender, "that's a damn good sentimental
thing to do. I'll bring the pints as you ask."
Well, time goes on and the Irishman's peculiar habit is
known and accepted by all the pub regulars. One day, the
Irishman comes in and orders only two pints. A hush falls
over the pub. Naturally, everyone figures something
happened to one of the brothers. A bunch of the regulars
corner the bartender and finally persuade him to find
out what happened.
With a heavy heart, the bartender brings the two
pints and says, "Here's your pints... and let me offer
my sincerest condolences. What happened?"
The Irishman looks extremely puzzled for a moment.
When the light comes on in his head, he starts laughing.
"No, no! 'Tis nothing like that. You see,
I've given up drinking for Lent."
JOKE
An Irishman, Englishman and Scottsman go into a pub
and each order a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender
hands them over, three flies buzz down and one lands in each
of the pints.
The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away
and demands another pint.
The Scottsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow.
The Irishman reaches in to the glass, pinches the fly between
his fingers and shakes him while yelling, "Spit it out, ya bastard!
Spit it out!"
May your neighbors respect you,
trouble neglect you,
angels protect you,
and heaven accept you!
May the hinges of our friendship never grow rusty.
Irish curse:
Morning screams to you.
Irish curse:
Cold days and nights without a fire to you.
May you get all your wishes but one
so you always have something to strive for!
Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.
Here's to thee and me and aw' on us!
May we ne'er want nought, none of us!
Neither thee nor me nor anybody else,
Aw on us--nawn on us.
God speed the Plow and bless the Cornmow.
God invented whiskey so the Irish wouldn't rule the world!
Merry met, and merry part,
I drink to thee with all my heart.
Work is the curse of the drinking class.
Moderation is a fatal thing-- nothing succeeds like excess.
We are all of us in the gutter.
But some of us are looking at the stars.
Bless you and yours
As well as the cottage you live in.
May the roof overhead be well thatched
And those inside be well matched.
Get on your knees
and thank the Lord
you're on your feet.
"It is better to spend money like there's no tomorrow
then to spend tonight like there's no money."
An Irishman's Philosophy:
There are only two things to worry about:
Either you are well or you are sick.
If you are well, then there is nothing to worry about.
But if you are sick, there are two things to worry about:
Either you will get well or you will die.
If you get well, then there is nothing to worry about.
But if you die, there are two things to worry about:
Either you will go to heaven or you will go to hell.
If you go to heaven, then you have nothing to worry about.
But if you go to hell, you'll be so damn busy shaking hands
with all your friends, then you won't have time to worry!
Here's to the four hinges of society.
May you fight, steal, lie and drink.
When you fight, may you fight for your country.
When you steal, may you steal away from bad company.
When you lie, may you lie at the side of your sweetheart.
And when you drink, may you drink with me.
