Emerald Isle Quotes

Ireland is probably named the “Emerald Isle” because there are lots of precious stones found there, such as sapphires and rubies.

To be certain you're consuming the real deal, look carefully at the label. W-h-i-s-k-e-y indicates the heavenly liquid from the Emerald Isle. Without the "e," it's from Scotland or some other godforsaken place.

You are my next breath. You are the reason I breathe at all. ~ Breandán Mac Liam

May I be excused, or would you like my assistance toweling off?" Ethan asked. "My grandmother is expecting me, and she hates when I'm late, although I'm willing to risk the wrath if you'd like to continue this conversation.

It was hard to get ahead when your energy and time were dedicated to keeping a roof over your head and the utilities on.

Sand might shift with wind or tide, but it didn’t really change, it just rearranged itself.

It's my job to worry about you. I'm in love with you, Stacy. I have been ever since I can remember. It's always been you.

I realized that with Chance and me, there were no secrets. Or at least none that I could otherwise explain. I said, "I trust you more than I trust my own family, you know that?" "Well, they don't set the bar real high." He smiled at me, a silly, playful smile. The kind of smile shared by people with a lot of history.

I clung tightly to Kwan’s mane as he propelled his great serpent body through the cloud banks. The cockatrice’s big green head dipped under the clouds, and I spotted an emerald island below, with dramatic peaks jutting up from the jungle. I asked the great cockatrice for the name of the isle, but he only laughed at me, saying that names changed faster than a century’s wind. That didn’t seem very fast to me, but I took his word for it.

You can’t swing a cat in Ireland without hitting a saint.

That the greatest mistakes in life are not the ones we make, but the ones that never get made because we are too afraid to try.

You're the most important person in my life," I whispered. "You're the only man I ever let in." "But I'm not in, Stace. I'm standing on the porch in the pouring rain, waiting for you to open the door. I've been waiting ever since you left after graduation, ever since you came back last year. Even now, you've let me into your bed, but not into your heart. I'm still waiting.

This Sarah Perez had the most beautiful eyes in the world, those green eyes spangled with gold that you love so much: the eyes of Antinous. In Rome, such eyes would have made her a concubine of Adrian; in Madrid they helped her become the princess of Eboli ensconced in the bed of the king. But Philip II was extremely jealous of those wonderful emerald eyes and their delicate transparency, and the princess - who was bored with the funereal palace and the even more funereal society of the king - had the fancy and the misfortune to cast her admirable gaze upon the Marquis de Posa while she was leaving church one day. It was on the threshold of the chapel, and the princess believed herself to be alone with her camarera mayor, but the vigilance of the clergy was equal to the challenge. She was betrayed, and that very evening, in the intimacy of their bedroom, in the course of some violent argument or tempestuous tussle, Philip threw his mistress to the floor. Blind with rage he leapt upon her, tore out her eye and devoured it in a single gulp. 'Thus was the princess covered in blood - a good title for a conte cruel, that, which Villiers de l'Isle Adam has somehow omitted to write! The princess was henceforth one-eyed: the royal pet had a gaping hole in her face. Philip II, who had the Jewess in his blood, could not cleave so closely to a princess who had only one eye. He made amends to her with some new titles and estates in the provinces and - regretful of the beautiful green eye that he had spoiled - he caused to be inserted into the empty and bloody orbit a superb emerald enshrined in silver, upon which surgeons then inscribed the semblance of a gaze. Oculists have made progress since then; the Princess of Eboli, already hurt by the ruination of her eye, died some little time afterwards, of the effects of the operation. The ways of love and surgery were equally barbarous in the time of Philip II! 'Philip, the inconsolable lover, gave the order to remove the emerald from the face of the dead princess before she was laid in the tomb, and had it mounted in a ring. He wore it about his finger, and would never take it off, even when he went to sleep - and when he died in his turn, he had the ring bearing the green tear clasped in his right hand.

was just bad-tempered. I stayed

Interestingly, some of the worst anti-Irish discrimination came from the Scotch-Irish, who wanted to make clear that they were a different group from the impoverished newcomers.

Patrick's Day. So we're toasting the good folks on the Emerald Isle with a Car Lust look back at what may be the most famous motor vehicle ever assembled there. Of course we're

Most of the first voluntary Irish immigrants came from Ulster in the north of Ireland. These immigrants were generally, although not exclusively, Protestants. They were known as “Scotch-Irish” or “Scots Irish,

Irish demographics reveal two startling facts: There are around 70 million people worldwide who claim Irish descent, and Ireland today has barely half the population that it had 160 years ago, a decline unmatched in the modern world. These facts are explained and connected by the undeniable social reality of nineteenth-century Ireland—emigration.

Ireland was a different place after the famine. The population was drastically reduced—an island of 8.2 million people in 1841 was reduced to 6 million in 1851. At least 1 million of those people had died. The rest fled the country, hoping for a new life in another land.

Cattle and metal treasure were the main forms of wealth in ancient Ireland—metal because it was rare, and cattle because they were useful. Cattle provided milk to drink and to make into cheese, and hide and meat after they were dead. If a king demanded tribute from his subjects, it would probably be in the form of cattle—in fact, a wealthy farmer was called a bóiare, or “lord of cows.” In the famous poem Táin Bó Cuailnge, a major war starts because Queen Mebd discovers that her husband has one more bull than she does. Celtic chieftains spent quite a bit of their energy stealing cattle from one another. They even had a special word for this activity, táin. (Cattle raiding wasn’t just an amusement for the ancient Irish; modern Irish people were stealing one another’s cattle well into the twentieth century.)

One of the most important functions of monasteries was as schools. Monastic schools were well attended (mostly by boys). Some of the students were treated as foster children by the monks, living in the care of another family until they were ready to return to their homes and adult responsibilities. Many noble warrior fathers seem to have thought that their sons would be safer in a monastery than at home. Students had to find and prepare food for the monks and help out with the business of running the monastery. But most of their time was spent studying and working.

The Irish mingled their Christianity with folk beliefs in fairies and changelings.

was absolute, having built layers of snitches to watch his snitches to watch his crews. Politicians, police, even some members of the FBI were firmly in his back pocket, and he kept them there by bribery, extortion, and good old-fashioned threats of violence. Old Man O’Shea, as he was referred to by the locals, showed no mercy. To anyone. He ruled with an iron fist and had no softness within him for anyone, including his own sons. Kieran and Conall were born to him from his wife, Fiona, a raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty he’d met on the Emerald Isle. Rumor had it he beat her, degraded her, and eventually killed her spirit, which then killed her body. Paddy made sure nothing could ever be proven. Fionn and Shannon were his children by his lifelong mistress, Gillian. At least, it was suspected she was his longtime mistress. She hadn’t actually been seen for years. His sons had not been raised by their mothers. When each boy turned six, he was taken and raised

My home was in turmoil. But the land, itself, was not. Have you ever noticed that trees fight not against the very ground that holds them. And the rocks of the mountains do not crumble to the rising rivers below. Only men do that. Only men fight for things beyond their power. And only men can be convinced that greatness comes from winning the fight.

I would like to believe there is more to this cursed life than just an honorable death.” “Like what?” Vegard said disdainfully. “Like peace.” “Peace? Peace you say? Dægan, you will spend a lifetime looking for peace! Where there is man, there is war. ‘Tis been that way since the dawn of time.

Make the decision to rejoice when things are happy, be patient when things are bad, and find your answers in prayer.

In this world, none of us have more than the moment we’re in. You’re here. I’m here. Tomorrow can take care of itself.

Given time and purpose, people are resilient. It’s faith that gets us through the bad times.

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” “Now, that’s beautiful.” “It’s Psalm 19. Verse 1.

Dealing with other people was often a crap shoot. Ultimately, you had to do what you had to do—what your conscience could live with.

service—serving other people—is a gift to all if it’s done with a glad heart.

Make the decision to rejoice when things are happy, be patient when things are bad, and find your answers in prayer. You’ll be amazed at how different the world will look to you, it will even feel different, when you find that peace within yourself.

Well, it’s not really about forgiveness, is it? Deciding not to seek revenge or ‘get even’ and to leave it in God’s hands, to trust Him to handle it, is more about acceptance and moving forward. When you do that, the anger and poison inside you will be neutralized

will lift up mine eyes unto the mountains: From whence shall my help come? My help cometh from God, Who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121.

Remember the old saying? Try to please everyone, and please no one, especially yourself.

Life is what you make of it. You can spend your time wishing for what isn’t, or find the good in what you have.

Fate was heartless. Always.

Gifts came in many ways and forms. Some were held close, some shared, but all were to be cherished.

controlled the shoes and clothing, Laurel

Often what we don't want to face, is what we need to face the most.

That the ocean is. IS. It didn't think, it didn't care. It simply existed in a mindless state, performing to the laws of nature.

People might try to hold it back—time or nature—to keep what their hearts most desired, and might even succeed for a while, but no one could stop it cold. Even a long-lived life lasted only a moment in the span of time on earth.

Better no one than the wrong one,

Natalie skimmed the left side of the book, then the right. Her eyes caught sight of a doodle she’d drawn in the margins; a heart with ND + JR written inside. Hell in a kettle, Goddess’s bloomers, and damn it all to hell. She casually covered the initials with her hand, shifted in her seat, and returned her eyes to the content of the page as if her life depended on it.

A fine bunch of humanity,” Natalie nodded. “I’d give anything to treat an ear infection right now.” “An infected cut,” Jules sighed wistfully. “Food poisoning,” Natalie said dreamily and lay next to him, intensely aware of the close distance between them.

It couldn’t possibly mean that his latest fling might be someone from Ireland. That would be too hurtful to imagine. Or someone that he was taking to Ireland on a magic trip. Some girl that he was going to impress with his fairytale ways in the Emerald Isle.

JUSTIFYING OPPRESSION While history has proven Malthusianism empirically false, however, it provides the ideal foundation for justifying human oppression and tyranny. The theory holds that there isn’t enough to go around, and can never be. Therefore human aspirations and liberties must be constrained, and authorities must be empowered to enforce the constraining. During Malthus’s own time, his theory was used to justify regressive legislation directed against England’s lower classes, most notably the Poor Law Act of 1834, which forced hundreds of thousands of poor Britons into virtual slavery. 11 However, a far more horrifying example of the impact of Malthusianism was to occur a few years later, when the doctrine motivated the British government’s refusal to provide relief during the great Irish famine of 1846. In a letter to economist David Ricardo, Malthus laid out the basis for this policy: “The land in Ireland is infinitely more peopled than in England; and to give full effect to the natural resources of the country, a great part of the population should be swept from the soil.” 12 For the last century and a half, the Irish famine has been cited by Malthusians as proof of their theory of overpopulation, so a few words are in order here to set the record straight. 13 Ireland was certainly not overpopulated in 1846. In fact, based on census data from 1841 and 1851, the Emerald Isle boasted a mere 7.5 million people in 1846, less than half of England’s 15.8 million, living on a land mass about two-thirds that of England and of similar quality. So compared to England, Ireland before the famine was if anything somewhat underpopulated. 14 Nor, as is sometimes said, was the famine caused by a foolish decision of the Irish to confine their diet to potatoes, thereby exposing themselves to starvation when a blight destroyed their only crop. In fact, in 1846 alone, at the height of the famine, Ireland exported over 730,000 cattle and other livestock, and over 3 million quarts of corn and grain flour to Great Britain. 15 The Irish diet was confined to potatoes because—having had their land expropriated, having been forced to endure merciless rack-rents and taxes, and having been denied any opportunity to acquire income through manufactures or other means—tubers were the only food the Irish could afford. So when the potato crop failed, there was nothing for the Irish themselves to eat, despite the fact that throughout the famine, their homeland continued to export massive amounts of grain, butter, cheese, and meat for foreign consumption. As English reformer William Cobbett noted in his Political Register: Hundreds of thousands of living hogs, thousands upon thousands of sheep and oxen alive; thousands upon thousands of barrels of beef, pork, and butter; thousands upon thousands of sides of bacon; and thousands and thousands of hams; shiploads and boats coming daily and hourly from Ireland to feed the west of Scotland; to feed a million and a half people in the West Riding of Yorkshire, and in Lancashire; to feed London and its vicinity; and to fill the country shops in the southern counties of England; we beheld all this, while famine raged in Ireland amongst the raisers of this very food. 16 “The population should be swept from the soil.” Evicted from their homes, millions of Irish men, women, and children starved to death or died of exposure. (Contemporary drawings from Illustrated London News.)

After you told me about the shirt cuff, I told you about the time I spilled ink on a map in my father's study." He shook his head, baffled. "It was a rare two-hundred-year-old map of the British Isles," Merritt explained. "I'd gone into my father's study to play with a set of inkwell bottles, which I'd been told not to do. But they were such tempting little etched glass bottles, and one of them was filled with the most resplendent shade of emerald green you've ever seen. I dipped a pen in it, and accidentally dribbled some onto the map, which had been spread out on his desk. It made a horrid splotch right in the middle of the Oceanus Germanicus. I was standing there, weeping with shame, when Papa walked in and saw what had happened." "What did he do?" Keir asked, now looking interested. "He was quiet at first. Waging a desperate battle with his temper, I'm sure. But then his shoulders relaxed, and he said in a thoughtful tone, 'Merritt, I suspect if you drew some legs on that blotch, it would make an excellent sea monster.' So I added little tentacles and fangs, and I drew a three-masted ship nearby." She paused at the flash of Keir's grin, the one that never failed to make her a bit light-headed. "He had it framed and hung it on the wall over his desk. To this day, he claims it's his favorite work of art." Amusement tugged at one corner of his mouth. "A good father," he commented.

Brighid, my friend, you will meet people in your life who will test your courage, question your wisdom, and challenge your beliefs. You can’t let those people squash your ambitions. They are not who defines us. But they are important.

Because they teach us to value what matters. When the battle is over and those people fade into mere memories, you are left holding on to the most important thing of all. And it isn’t fame, or conquest, or riches, it’s personal truth. Stay true to yourself, my dear, and you’ll never go wrong.

Sometimes people broke rules, important rules, if their need was great. It wasn’t always as simple as right and wrong. Sometimes it was just the way of the world.

That it is important to be strong, courageous, and true to yourself, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. That the greatest mistakes in life are not the ones we make, but the ones that never get made because we are too afraid to try.

St. Brigid's Day is about spring. It's about life returning to the emerald isle. It's about why we are who we are and why it's so important to celebrate being Irish.

St' Patrick's Day is all about being Irish and celebrating life as only the Irish know how.

You have read New England history, dear, but you’ve let the ugly parts slip into the back of your mind. Your forefathers hanged helpless old women as witches.” “Yes, Lanny, but they believed the devil was in them.” “The Communists believe the devil is in the capitalists, the great landlords and others who monopolize the means of life and use them to exploit the laboring masses. It is a different set of ideas, but the fundamental attitude, the type of mind, is the same. Your forefathers put men in stocks, they ducked women in ducking stools, they drove Roger Williams, a gentle mystic, out into the wilderness.” “Surely they never murdered people wholesale as the Communists have done!” “Are you sure? Just go to your public library and get a history of Ireland, and see what Oliver Cromwell did to the Irish people, the names he called them, and the wholesale ferocious slaughter. Ireland is a smaller country than Russia, but proportionately I doubt if the Communists have killed as many people in Russia as the Roundheads killed in the Emerald Isle. You and I are used to seeing social progress made by means of the ballot, but we have to bear in mind that some peoples haven’t reached that stage of development and cannot get any sort of change without violence, and a lot of it.

Lastly, she thought on the Emerald Isle with new a lens, searching for their word, their shared meaning and faith in life that held them together. It arrived in her mind like a carriage on time: Connection, she realised. It all stems back to feeling connected, to being connected, with oneself, with others, with the earth and its cycles, and with the true essence of life.

Lastly, she thought on the Emerald Isle with new a lens, searching for their word, their shared meaning and faith in life that held them together. It arrived in her mind like a carriage on time: Connection, she realised. It all stems back to feeling connected, to being connected, with oneself, with others, with the earth and its cycles, and with the true essence of life.

One thing she’d learned was that until you accept what must be done, rise above yourself, and move forward to do it with a whole heart, you were stuck. It wasn’t enough to go through the motions; you had to be that new person. Until then, you couldn’t go anywhere, not even back. You were doomed to be stuck, blind, mired in your own misery and self-doubt.

My Éireann by Stewart Stafford Éireann is my maiden, Titian grace spun gold, Fêted for her fairness, A goddess sacrificed. All-seeing eye of piety, But mauled with scars, In repose and melding, With the ire of the land. In perennial motion, Rivers meet the sea, Gaze upon a dark pool, Soubrette for new suitors. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

through a patch of vibrant trees glowing from the kiss of rain, reminding Siobhán why her home was called the Emerald Isle. The leaves indeed sparkled like precious emeralds. And she knew that, if forced to make a choice, she’d rather gaze upon this beautiful land than wear true emeralds around her neck.

card.

One thing she’d learned was that until you accepted what must be done, rose above yourself, and moved forward to do it with a whole heart, you were stuck. It wasn’t enough to go through the motions; you had to be that new person. Until then, you couldn’t go anywhere, not even back. You were doomed to be stuck, blind, mired in your own misery and self-doubt.

Alas! for poor Erin that some are still seen, Who would dye the grass red from their hatred to green; Yet, oh! when you're up, and they're down, let them live, Then yield them that mercy which they would not give. Arm of Erin, be strong! but be gentle as brave; And uplifted to strike, be still ready to save; Let no feeling of vengeance presume to defile The cause of, or men of, the Emerald Isle.

If wishes were horses....

At the Emerald Isle supermarket that I stomp off to after the fight with my father, it’s Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, Trump, and then the cashier, who also voted for him. Of course, these are just my assumptions. The guy in the T-shirt that pictures a semiautomatic rifle above the message COME AND TAKE IT, the one in fatigues buying two twelve-packs of beer and a tub of rice pudding, didn’t necessarily vote Republican. He could have just stayed home on Election Day and force-fed the women he holds captive in the crawl space beneath his living room.

Wherefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new.

If only trusting herself was as easy as just saying the words. Unfortunately, the dragon of self-doubt perched on her shoulders, it's claws firmly dug in.