Love In Irish Quotes & Sayings

Books of the sages of the ages reflect upon in stages; like honey their words on the tongue give due savour."
{Source: A Green Desert Father} — Richard Mc Sweeney

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. — J.D. Robb

Sometimes the archaism of the language when it's spoken is why we are all in love with the Irish today. — Diane Wakoski

Yes ... I love how the Irish are so comfortable with paradox that they revel in it. In fact, if you took it away from them, I suspect they would start gasping like fish out of water. No wonder their land's name, now removed from its Gaelic notions of abundance in 'eire,' evokes anger, or 'ire,' and yet also the rich, cooling green of a sea-colored jewel. A 'terrible beauty' indeed. They understand oppression and repression and explosion, but they remain a culture of faith-faith that creaks and groans and pulls, but is alive and never dull. And which urges them to art, to poetry, to song-these, too, are forms of action. Of passion. Of conviction. Yes, of love. — Carolyn Weber

Guard for me my eyes, Jesus, Son of Mary, lest seeing others' wealth make me covetous. Guard for me my ears, lest they harken to slander, lest they listen to folly in the sinful world. Guard for me my heart, O Christ, in Thy love, lest I ponder wretchedly the desire of any iniquity. Guard for me my hands, that they be not stretched out for quarreling, or practice shameful idleness. Guard for me my feet upon the gentle earth. . . . lest they be bent on profitless errands. Amen. - ANCIENT IRISH PRAYER — David P. Gushee

Women are sewers just like we are, the once pure boys recognize with a start; it's raw sewage that produces fertilization; once you understand that you can be fond of yourself and members of the Opposite Sex, but you can never quite see them again as ice cream bars. I, the author, don't really mind this, for I love all girls and love to hug and kiss them and cheer them up when they cry, and have them perform all the same services for me; and a woman's saliva is certainly a miracle, think of all those enzymes and germs; and if I took and wrote the chemicals down on a sheet of paper, all COOOHs and sighs, it would look pretty, just like a face all pretty, like the dear round moon-face of her who loves you or the creamy-freckled skin and blue eyes and heavenly hair of that Irish beauty back in college, so don't think I'm complaining. — William T. Vollmann

I go to Spain a lot, in winter, for a blast of sunlight to banish the blues brought on by the Irish greys and drizzle. I love the cities of the Spanish interior. — Kevin Barry

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. — Lora Leigh

Fookin' Irish, they're a race of political masochists, they love their fookin' chiefs and princes an' a strong hand belting. It's like the man said in the play, Abair and focal republic i nGaoluinn? — Gwyneth Jones

[Kurt Cobain] had a lot of German in him. Some Irish. But no Jew. I think that if he had had a little Jew he would have [expletive] stuck it out. — Courtney Love

I'm crazy about Dublin. If you went back 3,000 years in my ancestry you wouldn't find a drop of Irish blood in the veins, but I love the place. — Harold Prince

A day or so later, Gary David Goldberg, who created Family Ties and Spin City and Brooklyn Bridge and owns a house in the area, stops by the store looking for something to read. He picks up a copy of Must Love Dogs from the display. His five dogs are waiting for him in his car. He turns the book over and sees it's about a big Irish family. His wife, Diana Meehan, is from a big Irish family. — Claire Cook

And then I want to come back here, light all these candles ... ' He kisses me again. ' ... and tell you a story about a lowly Irish peasant bartender who falls in love with a beautiful American princess. — K.A. Tucker

But I will say that living in Ireland has changed the cadence and fullness of speech, since the Irish love words and use as many of them in a sentence as possible. — Anne McCaffrey

Always and Forever was about a love bond so strong that it transcends physical limitations and worlds. Love survived death for both Katie and Ronan and Katie the ghost moves between worlds. In death she remained the protector and the strong one in the marriage. A love divinely blessed in church as a marriage and God appointed Katie as his angel to watch over him and sent her as his angel of death to carry him to heaven. Ronan after Katie's death became a medium between Katie and the outside world. He saw her and can talk to her — Annette J. Dunlea

Or maybe he just rediscovered his humanity," Niten said quietly. "Maybe someone reminded him that he is human first, immortal second."
"You said as if you are speaking from personal experience," Perenelle said."
"I am," he said softly. "There was a time when I was ... wild."
"What happened?"
He smiled. "I met a redheaded Irish warrior."
"And fell in love?" she teased.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. — Michael Scott

An Irish Airman foresees his Death
I Know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love,
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death. — W.B.Yeats

He came back, sat on the ledge again, and handed her a glass. "You haven't slept; you haven't eaten."
"It goes with the territory." The wine tasted like liquid gold. "Nonetheless, you worry me, Lieutenant."
"You worry too easily."
"I love you." It flustered her to hear him say it in that lovely voice that hinted of Irish mists, to know that somehow, incredibly, it was true. Since she had no answer to give him, she frowned into her wine. — J.D. Robb

My problem is I love sex. No joking I really love sex. Life without sex is unbearable for me. As a child my mum says I loved men and hated women. I use to smile at men when I was in the pram and offer them lollipops or sweeties. I guess it is in my genes, my little weakness. I can live without the Valium and Vodka but not my sex. To me my choice is simple men or Paradise and I love them both. I cannot make that choice. It is like there is some evil force driving me to flirt and sleep around. No one man has ever been enough for me and now I have to live like a nun in rehab. I am not bold I am just misunderstood. No, don't laugh it is an illness and an exhausting one I am so tired, so very tired. — Annette J. Dunlea

Ireland, as distinct from her people, is nothing to me; and the man who is bubbling over with love and enthusiasm for "Ireland," and can yet pass unmoved through our streets and witness all the wrong and the suffering, shame and degradation wrought upon the people of Ireland-yea, wrought by Irishmen upon Irish men and women, without burning to end it, is, in my opinion, a fraud and a liar in his heart, no matter how he loves that combination of chemical elements he is pleased to call Ireland. — James Connolly

Initial proclamation brings the person 'into the love of God, who invites him to enter into a personal relationship with himself in Christ'.42Initial proclamation brings about conversion, when those who have not previously encountered Christ, or have dismissed him, open their heart to his love.43Sometimes it is a simple word offered, an experience of neighbourly love, or the witness of life on the part of a companion or an acquaintance that enables the person to see Jesus in a new light. As Pope Benedict points out: 'A Christian knows when it is time to speak of God and when it is better to say nothing and let love alone speak. He knows that God is love — Irish Episcopal Conference

It was a saying about noble figures in old Irish poems - he would give his hawk to any man that asked for it, yet he loved his hawk better than men nowadays love their bride of tomorrow. He would mourn a dog with more grief than men nowadays mourn their fathers. — Ted Hughes

Even though we had such different families, Keri and I were a good pair, both freckled and Irish with a strong belief in justice. We would go out for recess and spend the whole time walking and talking. This is something I still love to do today. I call it "walking the beat." I often call my friends and tell them to meet me on a New York corner at a certain time. The physical act of walking combined with the opportunity to look out at the world while you are sharing your thoughts and feelings is very comforting to me. You are in charge of the route and the amount of eye contact. I guess those days with Keri were when this started. — Amy Poehler

Wherever they went the Irish brought with them their books, many unseen in Europe for centuries and tied to their waists as signs of triumph, just as Irish heroes had once tied to their waists their enemies' heads. Where they went they brought their love of learning and their skills in bookmaking. In the bays and valleys of their exile, they reestablished literacy and breathed new life into the exhausted literary culture of Europe.
And that is how the Irish saved civilization. — Thomas Cahill

His death took place on the same day, at the same time of the same month as Katie's: Monday 12th November at 4am in the morning, on her tenth year anniversary. The old radio suddenly came live and the song Immortality by Celine Dion played. Emma proved you can love the man and hate the disease. She was relieved Ronan's suffering had ended and that he had gone before her as he was so ill — Annette J. Dunlea

Fate had dedicated that love's path would not run smoothly. Katie kept a secret from her husband and can they survive this? She had a lump in her breast. She was terrified it was cancer; her mum had died of it. A month later she got so sick she collapsed and had to be hospitalized. Tests revealed she had inoperable cancer. Surgery was no use nor was chemotherapy or radiography — Annette J. Dunlea

I love the Irish for their attachment to the faith and for many amiable and noble qualities, but they are deficient in good sense, sound judgement, and manly character. — Orestes Brownson

We have seen that the priests regard the state as an enemy to be exploited, it is only natural that our politicians do likewise. Thus, although patriotism is held in greater esteem in this country than in any other country in the world, there is no other country in the world where patriotism is less in evidence among politicians and among the general mass of the community. For patriotism and the state are so closely allied that love of one is necessarily love of the other. And if any man considers the state an enemy and an institution to be exploited, it follows naturally that he is no patriot. Thus the amazed tourist will see that it is very fashionable for Irish politicians who are not in the government to denounce the government and then when they get into the government it is equally fashionable for them to use the powers of government for the purpose of robbing the country. — Liam O'Flaherty

Katie shook her head in dismay. "I thought being poor was the worst thing that could happen to a girl."
"No, Katie," the countess said in a clear voice. "The worst thing is to be in love with one man and have to marry another."
Katie O'Reilly to the Countess of Marbury in "Titanic Rhapsody — Jina Bacarr

I feel more Irish than English. I feel freer than British, more visceral, with a love of language. Shot through with fire in some way. That's why I resist being appropriated as the current repository of Shakespeare on the planet. That would mean I'm part of the English cultural elite, and I am utterly ill-fitted to be. — Kenneth Branagh

I don't have any great love for Chicago. What the hell, a childhood around Douglas Park isn't very memorable. I remember the street fights and how you were afraid to cross the bridge 'cause the Irish kid on the other side would beat your head in. I left Chicago a long time ago. — Benny Goodman

More of a QUESTION: When I was in high school in the 1980's I read a book but cannot remember the name. It had a spooky green cover with a german shepherd like dog on it and I seem to remember it being about ghosts or something in the English countryside -although it could have been Irish or Wales or Scottish. Does anyone else remember this book and can you tell me the name? I would love to reread it since it set me on my path to my LOVE if reading. — M.D. Robinson

This I said in the Irish way, about which there is allowed to be something very engaging. It's a remarkable thing, and a testimony to the love with which our nation is regarded, that this address scarce ever fails in a handsome fellow. I cannot tell how often I have seen a private soldier escape the horse, or a beggar wheedle out a good alms, by a touch of the brogue. — Robert Louis Stevenson

Katie appeared as a ghost and cradled him in her arms and carried him, a frail dying version of her old husband, to heaven. The radio which was powered off suddenly comes on and played their song Follow Me. Nobody could see her only Ronan and he smiled and says "I knew you would come back for me love — Annette J. Dunlea

Irish rock star Bono has said, Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff. — Shane Claiborne

Oh, my love," Erienne breathed as he pressed his lips to her brow, "I was afraid you would come, and yet I hoped you would."
Light kisses rained upon her cheek and brow as he held her close, savoring the nearness of her while he could. "I would have come sooner had I known where they had taken you. I had not expected this of your father, but he will answer. I promise you that."
Erienne shook her head and replied in the same muted tone. "He is not my real father."
Christopher held her away, looking down at her wonderingly. "What is this?"
"My mother married an Irish rebel and got with child before he was hanged. Avery married her, knowing the facts, but he never told her that it was he who had given the final orders to hang my father."
Christopher gently brushed a tumbled curl from off her cheek. "I knew you were too beautiful to be kin to him."

-Erienne & Christopher — Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

I would love to go back to any time in European history, especially in Irish history, to the second or third century, prior to the arrival of Christianity when Paganism flourished. I can always go back there in my imagination, of course. It doesn't cost anything, and it's a form of time travel, I suppose. — Gabriel Byrne

She blew a warm breeze on his face and rustled his hair and embraced him in a warm haze and he felt her nonthreatening presence. She looked down and saw his face stained with tears, nobody could reach him in his grief but she could. He saw her and blew her a kiss goodbye. She flew down in a haze in a white dress with wings and whispered into his ear "please don't cry I am in a better place. Marriage was forever. Love and life was forever. My body died but my soul lives on for eternity". (Katie)
"The rain stopped suddenly and the grey sky cleared into a bright blue colour and a glowing warm orange sun appeared to show her appreciation. A perfect blue sky remained on the dark winter's day until after the ceremony and the hailstone and rain commenced again and the dark sky reappeared as the funeral car drove away — Annette J. Dunlea

Well, how we going to sleep with that going on?" his wife demanded, not unreasonably. "Are they making love, or are they sore at each other, or are they just suffering down there?"

("I Wouldn't Be In Your Shoes") — William Irish

My mum and my husband are from Irish backgrounds, so we have a lot of potatoes. Chips, mashed, boiled, new potatoes, I love them all. Even the slightly wonky ones like Duchess potatoes that go up in a little spiral. — Jo Brand

I love oatmeal. To me, it's not boring. I agree that ordinary oatmeal is very boring, but not the steel-cut Irish kind - the kind that pops in your mouth when you bite into it in little glorious bursts like a sort of gummy champagne. — Alan Alda

What a woman you are," he murmured, and she heard the emotion in it, the
way the Irish thickened just a bit in his voice. And saw it in those vivid eyes when he drew back. "That you would think of this. That you would do this."
He shook his head, kissed her. Like the breath, long and quiet.
"I can't thank you enough. There isn't enough thanks. I can't say what this means to me, even to you. I don't have the words for it." He took her hands,
brought them both to his lips. "A ghra. You stagger me."
He framed her face now, touched his lips to her brow. "You're the beat of my heart, the breath in my body, the light in my soul. — J.D. Robb

We survive. We're Irish. We have the souls of poets. We love our misery, we delight in the beauty of strange places and dark places in our hearts. — Eilis Flynn

Rick said, "Is there some place we can go and talk?"
"You want to talk?," Keir raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I'd see the day."
"Nah, I want to tell you this joke I heard."
Keir nodded, patient. "Shoot."
"Two Irish cops walk into a bar. The first cop says ... " Rick's voice dropped. He said gruffly, "I love you. Come home."
Keir managed to keep his voice steady. "What's the other cop say?"
The sweetness of Rick's smile was like a kick in his chest. "That's what I'm here to find out, boyo. — Josh Lanyon

People everywhere, enjoying life, smiling, and just slowing down to let the world take care of itself for a few hours.
The feeling was contagious. Especially when I stepped into McPherson's Pub to grab a bite of the special and listen to some traditional Irish music. The fiddle made me want to dance with myself, and many did. The drum beat like my very own heart. And some little flute that looked no wider than a pencil reminded me of the Aran Islands floating not too far from Abbeyglen.
God was here tonight. In the strings of the guitar and the call of the singer's voice. I realize how often I overlook him back at home.
And I know I don't want to do that anymore.
The LORD will send His faithful love by day; His song will be with me in the night a prayer to the Gid of my life. — Jenny B. Jones

I always gravitate towards anything from Ireland. With Irish lit, I love the use of language, but also in many instances, the Irish writers are writing about people and circumstances that I can relate to. — Daniel Woodrell

I'faith, 'tis an Occasion of no small Satisfaction to commence this Enquiry into the Romances & Fiction of the English--& their antick Neighbors, the Irish & the Scotch--free at last from the Tyranny of scurvy Translators--& to reacquaint myself with the earliest Works that engender'd my Love for the Novel. O Swift, O Fielding, O Sterne, I hail thee after too long an Absence, keen to revel once more in your rare Inventions and pricking Raillery, along with those of your less-fam'd Countrymen. Prithee look kindly on these Efforts of yr humble Servant to blazon your Glories to the gaping Pucklick. — Steven Moore

Ireland and America, music-wise, are very closely related. The Irish came over with their fiddles in hand, and you can hear it in the bluegrass and rockabilly. I love it when music from different countries combine. — Imelda May

I listen to music mostly in the evening. I've come to love what is called world music, like the Zimbabwean Oliver Mtukudzi and the Colombian singer Marta Gomez. I also love the Irish folk singer Mary Black. Other favorites include Chet Baker, Eva Cassidy, and Billie Holiday. — Jeannette Walls