Living in SWAN with Irish roots

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We Irish are too poetical to be poets; we are a nation of brilliant failures, but we are the greatest talkers since the Greeks.

May the grass grow long on the road to hell for want of use.

Here's to the women that I've loved and all the ones I've kissed. As for regrets, I just have one; that's all the ones I've missed. Oh, womens' faults are many, us men have only two: Every single thing we say, and everything we do.

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.

Where the tongue slips, it speaks the truth.

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[ Living in SWAN with Irish roots ].

A ship often sank beside the harbour.

A light heart lives long.

Your son is your son today, but your daughter is your daughter forever.

In order to find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God.

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