“May your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow. And may trouble avoid you wherever you go.”
For the whole world is Irish on the Seventeenth o’ March!
The best luck of all is the luck you make for yourself.
For each petal on the shamrock, this brings a wish your way: Good health, good luck, and happiness for today and every day.
The amount of good luck coming your way depends on your willingness to act.
The heart of an Irishman is nothing but his imagination.
Being Irish is very much a part of who I am. I take it everywhere with me.
May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.
Ireland is a land of poets and legends, of dreamers and rebels.
St. Patrick’s Day is an enchanted time — a day to begin transforming winter’s dreams into summer’s magic.
We may have bad weather in Ireland, but the sun shines in the hearts of the people and that keeps us all warm.
You’re not in America now, you’re in Ireland. So have a drink and shut up.
A good friend is like a four-leaf clover, hard to find and lucky to have.
Luck is believing you’re lucky.
Love is never defeated, and I could add, the history of Ireland proves it.
Yeah, it’s St. Paddy’s Day. Everyone’s Irish tonight.
The list of Irish saints is past counting; but in it all no other figure is so human, friendly, and lovable as St. Patrick.
That’s what the holidays are for — for one person to tell the stories and another to dispute them. Isn’t that the Irish way?
I’m not going to a distant world. I’m of Ireland, and I’ll stay in Ireland until I die!
I wish that I could stop feeling that I want to be an Irish girl in Ireland.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
If you’re Irish, it doesn’t matter where you go — you’ll find family.
May your pockets be heavy and your heart be light, may good luck pursue you each morning and night.
There is no language like the Irish for soothing and quieting.
Never iron a four-leaf clover, because you don’t want to press your luck.