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2cc7815
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The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.
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irish
lyrical
sea
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James Joyce |
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112e5c7
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The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.
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irish
song
war
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G.K. Chesterton |
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204fb6a
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Thankfully the rest of the world assumed that the Irish were crazy, a theory that the Irish themselves did nothing to debunk. They had somehow got it into their heads that each fairy lugged around a pot of gold with him wherever he went. While it was true that LEP had a ransom fund, because of its officers' high-risk occupation, no human had ever taken a chunk of it yet. This didn't stop the Irish population in general from skulking around rainbows, hoping to win the supernatural lottery.
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irish
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Eoin Colfer |
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36a1d61
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He had been thinking of how landscape moulds a language. It was impossible to imagine these hills giving forth anything but the soft syllables of Irish, just as only certain forms of German could be spoken on the high crags of Europe; or Dutch in the muddy, guttural, phlegmish lowlands.
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german
irish
landscape
language
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Alexander McCall Smith |
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5762486
|
"Oh, now my Erin, she'd smile down on me no matter where I walked." Grandpop smiled that little smile again. "But I'd be separated from her, and I'd feel that separation in my soul, you see?" Nathan shook his head. Grandpop sighed. "You have the Irish eyes, boy. One of these days, you'll see from eyes, not your own, feel with a heart outside your chest. Wild Irish eyes. Nathan. When you love, love well and love true, and take care, lad, because those Irish eyes are windows into not just your own soul, but the soul of the one you love." Grandpop looked out at his Erin's grave. "And when you lose that heart, you can't leave the places where your memories are the best. And if I left her, I'd not be buried beside her."
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elite
eyes
grandpop
irish
leigh
lora
malone
nathan
ops
wild
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Lora Leigh |
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7a7ac9f
|
"If you own a bar on your own, you're a player; if you own it with your beloved twin sister, you're-" "Irish."
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irish
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Gillian Flynn |
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5026e70
|
A proper Irishman always does what a lady asks him. Sure an' it's been the ruin av us. We're at the mercy av the petticoats.
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chivalry
irish
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L.M. Montgomery |
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e266a55
|
The History of Ireland in two words: . The Invasion by the Vikings: . The Invasion by the Normans. The Flight of the Earls, Mr Oliver Cromwell. Daniel O'Connell, Robert Emmett, The Famine, Charles Stewart Parnell, Easter Rising, Michael Collins, Eamon De Valera, Eamon De Valera again (Dear Germany, so sorry to learn of the death of your Mr Hitler), Eamon De Valera again, the Troubles, the Tribunals, the Fianna Fail Party, The Church, the Banks, the eight hundred years of rain: . In the Aeneid Virgil tells it as , which in Robert Fitzgerald's translation means 'They weep for how the world goes', which is more eloquent than but means the same thing.
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ireland
irish
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Niall Williams |
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a32364f
|
"More than loud acclaim, I love Books, silence, thought, my alcove.
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irish
poem
|
Seamus Heaney |
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6a75ffc
|
"A driver had been sent to meet us. He was gray-haired, short, and nimble and introduced himself. "I am Patrick and so is every fourth man in Ireland, and the ones in between are named Sean or Mick or Finn, and I'll be driving you."
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irish
irishmen
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Sharon Creech |
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11da84b
|
"Say what you said before again. The Irish thing. I want to say it back to you." He smiled. Took her hand. "You'll never pronounce it." "Yes, I will." Still smiling, he said it slowly, waited for her to fumble through. But her eyes stayed steady and serious as she brought his hand to her heart, laid hers on his, and repeated the words. She saw emotion move over his face. His heart leaped hard against her hand. "You undo me, Eve." He sat up, dropped his brow against hers. "Thank God for you," he murmured in a voice gone raw. "Thank God for you."
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irish
love
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J.D. Robb |
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e89f10d
|
"Oberon's been kidnapped along with one of the werewolves, and that's why we're all so upset. We'll talk more tomorrow, and I promise to answer all your questions if I survive the night," I said. The widow's eyebrows raised. "Ye've got all these nasty pooches to run around with and ye still might die?" "I'm going to go fight with a god, some demons, and a coven of witches who all want to kill me," I said, "so it's a distinct possibility." "Are y'goin' t'kill 'em back?" "I'd certainly like to." "Attaboy," the widow chuckled. "Off y'go, then. Kill every last one o' the bastards and call me in the mornin'."
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|
irish
magic
werewolf
widow
witch
wolfhound
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Kevin Hearne |
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8b4caf3
|
Her smile increased. She had perfect white regular teeth; Irish, Juliana decided. Only Irish blood could give that jawline such femininity.
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|
feminity
irish
perfect
white
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Philip K. Dick |
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b3fe9df
|
Irish-looking,' Halley said, by which she meant a collection of indistinct features - pale skin, mousy hair, general air of ill-health - that combine to mysteriously powerful romantic effect.
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irish
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Paul Murray |
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be83ec0
|
Like the Jews before them, the Irish enshrined literacy as their central religious act.
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irish
literacy
religious-act
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Thomas Cahill |
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7323779
|
more guilt, guilt, guilt. That's the Irish condition.
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ireland
irish
|
Adrian McKinty |
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24f5142
|
Irish people marry late, as a rule. We have that potato-famine DNA from the old country, that mentality where you don't give birth to anything until you have the potatoes all stored up to feed it. My ancestors were all shepherds who got married in their thirties and then stayed together for life, who had long and happy marriages, no doubt because they were already deaf. My grandparents courted for nine years before they married in 1933.
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irish
marriage
potates
potato
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Rob Sheffield |
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a690594
|
"Oh, trust me Sydney Tar Ponds, you aren't the first Personification to be forgotten by somebody ordinary," Mearth sighed with a falsely-reassuring smile. Alecto stepped back from her, glaring hatefully. "Sydney Tar Ponds," Mearth added, "I've had so many ordinary people as friends in my life that by now I've forgotten all their names. At first it was difficult... very sad... to see them always leaving, dying, disappearing, ignoring, but after a while I realized that they weren't worth the trouble. I'd rather be in the company of other Personifications. At least they aren't always dropping dead like houseflies or sailing away to parts unknown. Nil sa saol seo ach ceo, i ni bheimid beo, ach seal beag gearr. Wouldn't you agree?" "No," Alecto told her. "I think you're insane."
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|
death
dying
forget
friend
friendship
housefly
human
insane
irish
loss
memory
mother-earth
ordinary
personification
pollution
sad
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Rebecca McNutt |