Saint Patrick's Day

Being Irish, I always had this love of words.

I come from an Irish Catholic family, and hell-raising is part of the DNA.

Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.

Being Irish is very much a part of who I am. I take it everywhere with me.

That's what the holidays are for - for one person to tell the stories and another to dispute them. Isn't that the Irish way?

I was raised in a very old fashioned Ireland where women were reared to be lovely.

Our hearts were drunk with a beauty Our eyes could never see.

There is no language like the Irish for soothing and quieting.

Fond memory brings the light of other days around me.

Every St. Patrick's Day every Irishman goes out to find another Irishman to make a speech to.

Above all else, deep in my soul, I'm a tough Irishwoman.

Geographically, Ireland is a medium-sized rural island that is slowly but steadily being consumed by sheep.

If you're Irish, it doesn't matter where you go - you'll find family.

I try to be grateful for the abundance of the blessings that I have, for the journey that I'm on and to relish each day as a gift.

Cherish your human connections: your relationships with friends and family.

You've got to think lucky. If you fall into a mudhole, check your back pocket - you might have caught a fish.

I love everything that's old, - old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine.

Luck is believing you're lucky.

To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone.

You gotta try your luck at least once a day, because you could be going around lucky all day and not even know it.