More than loud acclaim, I loveBooks, silence, thought, my alcove.
Being Irish is very much a part of who I am. I take it everywhere with me.
My people - before I was changed - they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a Claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship; the crown represents loyalty... and the heart... Well, you know... W...
We have always found the Irish a bit odd. They refuse to be English.
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
If it was raining soup, the Irish would go out with forks.
Americans may say they love our accents (I have been accused of sounding 'like Princess Di') but the more thoughtful ones resent and rather dislike us as a nation and people, as friends of mine have f...
There is no language like the Irish for soothing and quieting.
The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was...
All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
I'm not singing for the future I'm not dreaming of the past I'm not talking of the fist time I never think about the last