I like Guinness, and that will make anyone Irish. That and soda bread, and I’m good to go.
My mother was Irish; she had this great sense of humor, and both my parents loved films. There was a very vibrant discourse about politics and everything that was going on in the world where I grew up. So I was genetically predisposed to go into the performing arts.
I am very proud to be Irish.
I’ve always loved movies, so I tried to get into an acting school. I saw an ad for the Oscar school on the back of ‘The Irish Times,’ and I went along for an audition, very pragmatically, to see if I could do it or not.
There are not many Irish people playing tennis!
Growing up in an old-fashioned Bengali Hindu family and going to a convent school run by stern Irish nuns, I was brought up to revere rules. Without rules, there was only anarchy.
When I hit the scene, there was Billy Connolly and Max Boyce. It was all mother-in-law and Irish jokes, and we broke the mould. Now there are thousands of comedians out there, and I don’t think I can be above it all.
My parents are both from Belfast. I have an Irish passport and a British passport, and I go back every summer and every Christmas, and sometimes I pop over during the year to say hi, and, of course, celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.
We play our Irish songs a bit more loosely.
The Irish seem to have more fire about them than the Scots.
I grew up in northwest London on a council estate. My parents are Irish immigrants who came over here when they were very young and worked in menial jobs all their lives, and I’m one of many siblings.
I wasn’t close to my father, but I wanted to be all my life. He had a funny sense of humor, and he laughed all the time – good and loud, like I do. He was a gay Irish gentleman and very good-looking. And he wanted to be close to me, too, but we never had much time together.
I love Britain. I’m an Irish citizen, but I was born in Canada, and I’m a British comedian, really. My entire career has been over here.
I’m Irish and Cherokee Indian. I can’t faint.
Some people say to me, ‘You don’t sound very Irish.’ It’s because I have this tendency to iron out my accent: not because I’m ashamed of it but because it makes my life easier if I don’t keep having to repeat myself.
Northern Ireland must, in future, be absorbed into the Irish republic. Wales and Scotland must advance from devolution to full independent status. The four nations of these islands must commit themselves absolutely to the project of a United Europe.
Most boys’ first hero is their father. That was definitely true of my dad. He was a proud Irish American and he taught me a lot about ethics and responsibility. He also introduced me to a lot of wonderful folk music.
I went into the world confident my tea training would open many doors. And I did particularly well with the Irish and fellow Nova Scotians over 60. But this only got me so far. It took a long time to cultivate the tricks of easy social interaction.
My dad had a dream of living in an Irish castle, even when we were in Argentina, and in 1960 he found a place without any heat or running water. We had no money, so it was tough.
A Canada-style deal for the whole of the UK results in a hard border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. For that reason, it has never been acceptable to the EU without a permanent hard border down the Irish Sea.
Being Irish means you belong to the clan. It’s what you feel. They feel Irish.
I bought a flat in Camden when I was 26, which I was extremely lucky to do. I think it’s an Irish thing about owning land, giving you a bit of security.
My parents are huge influences on me. My mother was an English teacher. My father played professional rugby and coached rugby for the Irish rugby team.
We have always found the Irish a bit odd. They refuse to be English.
I came to think that nobody from England could draw American comic books, because they were clearly all done by this sort of Mafia, all these guys with Italian and Irish names who had the whole thing sewn up. It was actually seeing a comic book drawn by Barry Smith, who was about my age, and English.
Poetry is not Irish or any other nationality; and when writers such as Messrs. Clarke, Farren and the late F. R. Higgins pursue Irishness as a poetic end, they are merely exploiting incidental local colour.
I can only have admiration for the Irish as a nation.
My mom’s family was 100 percent Irish, in the American way of being Irish, and then my dad was half Irish.
Irish women are always carrying water on their heads, and always carrying their husbands home from pubs. Such things are the greatest posture-builders in the world.
Both the U.K. and the E.U. have made a sincere commitment to the people of Northern Ireland: there will be no hard border. Equally, as a U.K. government, we could not countenance a future in which a border was drawn in the Irish Sea, separating Northern Ireland from the rest of the U.K.
My kids are Irish; I want them to grow up playing Gaelic football and learning Irish.
I am of Irish, Italian, and French Canadian descent.
As a past attorney general I consider a WTO Brexit to be a disaster for us as, leaving aside the economic damage it will cause, it would trash our reputation for observing our international obligations – as it must lead to our breaching the Good Friday Agreement with Ireland on the Irish border.
I think most Irish people are creative. Whether it’s music, or dance, or… certainly storytelling is in the blood.
Importing foreign labor has always been the American way, beginning with 4 million slaves from Africa. Later came the Jews and Poles, the Hungarians, Italians and Irish, the Chinese and Japanese – everything you learned in sixth grade social studies about the great American melting pot.
I have the soul of a singer and do splendidly in the shower but the world will never hear it. Basically, I’m the only Irish person who can’t carry a tune.
It’s not that the Irish are cynical. It’s rather that they have a wonderful lack of respect for everything and everybody.
I think it’s an Irish thing. We don’t really care. We say it as we mean it, and you have to deal with it. The truth is the truth.
I’m from an Irish Catholic family.
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.
I don’t hate redheads! The millionaire men – wealthy men – never pick them. Every time I offer them they say no. I could say the most gorgeous redhead in the world and they’ll say no, they don’t want it. Now if you ask an Irish guy in Ireland, he says ‘yes,’ because that’s indigenous to that country.
It’s very difficult to break in Europe unless you break in England, and it’s very difficult to break in England if you’re Irish.
We have, therefore, directed the Irish Army authorities to have field hospitals established in County Donegal adjacent to Derry and at other points along the Border where they may be necessary.
I had to have some balls to be Irish Catholic in South London. Most of that time I spent fighting.
At Leeds I’ve tried to concentrate on my club form, but you get caught up in all the World Cup fever once you come back to Ireland and see all the Irish boys again.
I’m just a loud Irish guy.
All of my dad’s family, his brothers and sisters, my nana and grandad and all of the cousins emigrated to Australia within two years of each other. Irish families are close at the best of times, but when you move to the other side of the world, we were like a big posse over there.
The strange thing is I can’t play jigs or reels or any of that traditional Irish stuff as well as I ought to, whereas I think I have got a good ear for blues, the tonality of it and so on.
I suppose British people generally, probably have very stereotypical notions about the Irish that go back to Victorian times.
I’m Irish. That means I’m Catholic. But, truth is, now I’m a retired Christian.
A huge part of Irish dance is balance, which is so good for any kind of combat – just being aware of your body.
My mother is Irish, my father is black and Venezuelan, and me – I’m tan, I guess.
I made loads of English and Irish friends at university and all they wanted to do was have a good time.
I live again the days and evenings of my long career. I dream at night of operas and concerts in which I have had my share of success. Now like the old Irish minstrel, I have hung up my harp because my songs are all sung.
My lineage is partially Irish.
When I was 19, I thought I wanted to be an English civil servant. It was the most exotic thing at the time – can you imagine, in the middle of the IRA bombing campaigns? I saw an ad inviting Irish applicants for an induction course, so I signed up.
I am a proud product of Irish golf and the Golfing Union of Ireland and am hugely honoured to have come from very rich Irish sporting roots… I am also a proud Ulsterman who grew up in Northern Ireland. That is my background and always will be.
The Butcher Boy is a very great novel indeed and a very important Irish novel. The ambiguity of that is, he’s writing a book about an appalling situation and he does it in a hilarious way.
