Every Craggy And Gnarled Tree

By Anglicising Ourselves We Have Thrown Away With A Light Heart The Best Claim We Have Upon The World's Recognition Of Us As A Seperate Nationality...the Notes Of Nationality, Our Language And Customs.

Every Craggy And Gnarled Tree Has Its Own Strange And Graceful Legend Attached To It.

The Gaelic League Is Founded Not Upon Hatred Of England, But Upon Love Of Ireland. Hatred Is A Negative Passion; It Is Powerful - A Very Powerful Destroyer; But It Is Useless For Building Up. Love, On The Other Hand, Is Like Faith; It Can Move Mountains, And Faith, We Have Mountains To Move.

As Our Language Wanes And Dies, The Golden Legends Of The Far-off Centuries Fade And Pass Away. No One Sees Their Influence Upon Culture; No One Sees Their Educational Power.

I Do Not Share The Wish To See My Language Dead And Decently Buried