Emerald Isle Quotes

Not even the Emerald Isle itself was as green as the grass that grew in Ebbets Field.

We are a fighting race, we are told, and every Irishman is always proud to hear our politicians and journalists tell of our exploits in the fighting line – in other countries, in other climes and in other times. Yes, we are a fighting race. Whether it is under the Stars and Stripes or under the Union Jack; planting the flag of America over the walls of Santiago or helping our own oppressors to extend their hated rule over other unfortunate nations our brave Irish boys are ever to the front. When the Boer has to be robbed of his freedom, the Egyptian has to be hurled back under the heel of his taskmaster, the Zulu to be dynamited in his caves, the Matabele slaughtered beside the ruins of his smoking village or Afridi to be hunted from his desolated homestead, wheresoever, in short, the bloody standard of the oppressors of Ireland is to be found over some unusually atrocious piece of scoundrelism, look then for the sons of our Emerald Isle, and under the red coats of the hired assassin army you will find them. Yes, we are a fighting race. In Africa, India or America, wherever blood is to be spilt, there you will find Irishmen, eager and anxious for a fight, under any flag, in anybody's quarrel, in any cause – except their own

I really enjoyed shooting in Ireland. The people are so lovely. I hope I don't offend anyone in saying this, but the nature reminded me of Americans: everyone was warm and open and easy to talk to. And Ireland is so beautiful and lusciously green.

I'll tell you what, it doesn't get more beautiful than the west of Ireland. Connemara and County Derry are quite stunning, really.

Ireland is a place that's beautiful and interesting, but I remember when I went there as a teenager with my parents, I was like, "Okay, I'll go to Ireland with my parents. It's going to be green." I think people underestimate it, in that it's, "Oh, it's green," and then you get there, and it's like, "Wow, it is green!" It's, "Oh, there's Irish music," and then you get there, and you're like, "Oh, this Irish music is amazing!" You underestimate it.

The field was even greener than my boy's mind had pictured it. In later years, friends of ours visited Ireland and said the grass there was plenty green all right, but that not even the Emerald Isle itself was as green as the grass that grew in Ebbets Field.

Ireland, sir, for good or evil, is like no other place under heaven, and no man can touch its sod or breathe its air without becoming better or worse.

Ireland is a country peopled by peasants, priests and pixies.

I've never been to Ireland and I've always wanted to go.

The landscape in Ireland is just - I've never been in such a beautiful place with the lakes and ocean and everything.

I really want to go to Ireland. It's really green I hear and very pretty. So I'd really like to go there and spend a nice amount of time because I always travel but for like a second. I never get to enjoy the places.

Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.

Instead of the bright, blue sky of America, I am covered with the soft, grey fog of the Emerald Isle. I breathe, and lo! the chattel becomes a man.