I Think I Would Know

Ireland Sober Is Ireland Stiff.

Heart Of My Heart, Were It More, More Would Be Laid At Your Feet.

And In Spite Of Everything, Ireland Remains The Brain Of The Kingdom. The English, Judiciously Practical And Ponderous, Furnish The Over-stuffed Stomach Of Humanity With A Perfect Gadget--the Water Closet. The Irish, Condemned To Express Themselves In A Language Not Their Own, Have Stamped On It The Mark Of Their Own Genius And Compete For Glory With The Civilized Nations. This Is Then Called English Literature.

When The Soul Of A Man Is Born In This Country There Are Nets Flown At It To Hold It Back From Flight.

I've Put In So Many Enigmas And Puzzles That It Will Keep The Professors Busy For Centuries Arguing Over What I Meant, And That's The Only Way Of Insuring One's Immortality.