Ireland Christmas Quotes

She blinked once, then twice, and yet again, sure what she viewed was just another part of this fantasy world that she had stepped into when her feet touched the green grass of Ireland.

Okay. You go first. Do you really think I look like a camel?’ “No. I think you look like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, Japan in cherry blossom season, and the thousand vivid shades of green in the wild moors of Northern Ireland, all rolled into one.

My grandfather blasted in. "Aw now, hell, carolyn, don't go twisting the boy back up in knots all over again now that you finally got him straightened out. They aren't leprechauns, son. they're elves. Leprechauns are those little drunk motherfuckers from Ireland.

When he reached the yard gate and found the padlock seized with frost, he felt the strain of being alive and wished he had stayed in bed, but he made himself carry on and crossed to a neighbour’s house, whose light was on.

No. I think you look like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, Japan in cherry blossom season, and the thousand vivid shades of green in the wild moors of Northern Ireland, all rolled into one.

Ireland is quiet this Christmas, in greater peace than she has seen for forty years. Mainly he has brought this about by hanging people. Not many: just the right ones. It's an art, a necessary art. . .

didn’t need to know what happened when our time on earth came to an end. I just wanted to be here, soaking it in, squeezing every drop out of my life. Appreciating little things, like chocolate chip cheesecake and Christmas ornaments and patches of grass and best friends. Sleeping and waking up.

One bright, sunny morning not too long before Christmas, Annabelle woke to feel the sunlight’s mockery shining upon her shriveled skin. Its rays caressed her body, taunting and reminding her that though her light would soon be extinguished, the world around her would shine on, vibrant as always.

Driving up to the convent, the reflection of Furlong’s headlights crossed the windowpanes and it felt as though he was meeting himself there. Quietly as he could he drove past the front door and reversed down the side, to the coal shed, and turned the engine off. Sleepily, he climbed out and looked over the yews and hedges, the grotto with its statue of Our Lady, whose eyes were downcast as though she was disappointed by the artificial flowers at her feet, and the frost glittering in places where patches of light from the high windows fell.

The sparkles that came from the firecracker are coffee crumbles!" Originating in Ireland, Crumbles are a baked dessert generally consisting of fruits topped with a crumbly crust. The crumbly mix can be made with rolled oats, crushed almonds and even crushed coffee beans! "How refreshingly tart! I can taste a faint hint of grated tangerine zest. Its fruity flavor pairs exceedingly well with the mildly sweet, clean flavor of the cake. And the hidden piece of the puzzle that ties them both together... ... is this cream that's coating the outer layer of bark!" "Man, you catch on fast! That's right. That's another variation on the cream I used as a filling for the center of the cake. I used that dark cream and thinned it into a brown cream that would melt at room temperature." "Oho! How clever. The crumbles, while sweet and delicious, tend to have a very dry and, well... crumbly texture. Not so with this cake." The brown cream brought just the right amount of moisture to the crumbles... enough to prevent them from being dry but not so much that they lose their crispy crunch. Plus, it firmly ties the flavors of the crumbles and the cake itself into one harmonious whole! Now I see. "That must be the other reason why you chose not to use any dairy or added sugars in the cake! Either would have overwhelmed the coffee crumbles! But you wanted to emphasize their delicate flavors... the light flash and sparkle of their tartness and bitterness!" "Refreshing at first, with a full body... capped off with a flash of invigorating bitterness!" "This is a gem of a dish that will captivate everyone, young and old!

When I first moved to Ireland back in 2006, one of my goals was to get serious about my writing. This book is the result of that initial endeavor. And although the finished version no longer resembles that first draft, it is hopefully what I intended it to be: a funny,

Let us imagine a lateral world, set only infinitesimally to the side of the one we think we know, in which just this has come to pass. The British people suffer beneath a Tory despotism of previously unimagined rigor and cruelty. Under military rule, Ireland has become a literal shambles—Catholics of any worth or ability are routinely identified when young, and imprisoned or assassinated forthwith. Orange Lodges are ubiquitous, and every neighborhood is administered from one. A sort of grim counter-Christmas runs from the first to the twelfth of July, anniversaries of the Boyne and Aughrim. France, southern Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Russia have combined in a protective League of Europe, intended to keep Britain an outcast from the community of nations. Her only ally is the U.S., which has become a sort of faithful sidekick, run basically by the Bank of England and the gold standard. India and the colonies are if possible worse off than they were.

Dagen övergår till kväll och tusentals ljus välkomnar oss när Dublins stad omfamnar bukten.

Even though Mr Graham was a fascinating witness, the High Court hearing–just like the Cork Circuit Court libel action before it–suddenly began to revolve around Marie Farrell. The former west Cork shopkeeper, who had since relocated to her native Longford, was a core strategic element of Mr Bailey’s case. Her claims about making statements to the 2003 libel hearing under garda duress had been hugely damaging to An Garda Síochána. The High Court action would now hear precisely what she had seen on 23 December 1996 at Kealfadda Bridge–and why she had given evidence at Cork Circuit Court that she had later recanted. Mrs Farrell was called to offer evidence in December, just two weeks before the High Court suspended its hearings for the Christmas break. Her evidence was nothing short of extraordinary. She claimed a garda had exposed himself to her, that another garda had stripped naked in front of her and asked for sex, that gardaí had put her under unrelenting pressure to support an incriminating statement that undermined Mr Bailey’s key alibi–and had threatened her with arrest if she did not comply.

When she peered through the camera, she regretted what the shutter couldn't capture: the accents of Ireland and Norway and backwoods Wisconsin. The sweet, high longing of the flute. The smell of tobacco on the men, and sweat muffled under layers of wool. But the camera would see their smoking pipes and calloused hands. It would catch the twinkling eyes and puckish grins on their faces. Mamah knew then what she wanted to give Frank for Christmas. The men's portrait would be one of a whole series of pictures for a photo album that would tell the story of Taliesen.

Wishes are seeds of hope. Some take root in the fertile soil of reality while others continue as memories of lost desires. Wishes have inspired great successes, filled fountains and lip-polished a stone in Ireland. Wishes are the visions we create in relation to our talents, needs or simple wants. We have decorated all we wish for with the spirit of mere possibility. Someone has to win the lottery, why not me? Some wishes are greater than possibility. Some defy a greater design. All are dreams of achieving something we cannot do alone, not without the luxury of chance.

IRELAND Nollaig Shona Duit On Christmas Eve, in honor of the infant Jesus, the youngest family member is chosen to light a candle in the window. Th e light is a welcome to any who, like Mary and Joseph, might be looking for shelter. The candle burns all night long, and wanderers who pass by are given food and money. After church services on Christmas Day, families distribute baked goods to friends and relatives. Th e season ends on January 6, which is known as “Little Christmas.