Every Irishman, The Saying Goes, Has A

Nothing Good Bursts Forth All At Once. The Lightning May Dart Out Of A Black Cloud; But The Day Sends His Bright Heralds Before Him, To Prepare The World For His Coming.

What Hypocrites We Seem To Be Whenever We Talk Of Ourselves! Our Words Sound So Humble, While Our Hearts Are So Proud.

Happy The Boy Whose Mother Is Tired Of Talking Nonsense To Him Before He Is Old Enough To Know The Sense Of It.

It Is A Proof Of Our Natural Bias To Evil, That Gain Is Slower And Harder Than Loss In All Things Good; But In All Things Bad Getting Is Quicker And Easier Than Getting Rid Of.

Love, It Has Been Said, Flows Downward. The Love Of Parents For Their Children Has Always Been Far More Powerful Than That Of Children For Their Parents; And Who Among The Sons Of Men Ever Loved God With A Thousandth Part Of The Love Which God Has Manifested To Us?