Living in SYDNEY with Irish roots

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May I see you gray And combing your grandchildren's hair.

May the luck of the Irish Lead to happiest heights And the highway you travel Be lined with green lights.

He who gets a name for early rising can stay in bed until midday.

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 pint and another one!

The Irish people do not gladly suffer common sense.

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[ Living in SYDNEY with Irish roots ].

Always remember to forget The things that made you sad. But never forget to remember The things that made you glad

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."

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

Sláinte!: In an Irish pub, patrons toast each other sláinte (pronounced "slaan-sha") as they clink glasses of Guinness. Derived from the Old Irish adjective slán (which means "safe"), sláinte literally translates as "health" and is used as a stand-in for the more time-consuming "I drink to your health!"

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