Michigan, the beautiful land of my youth, is hardly Boston and, while I would identify myself as American if asked my ethnicity, a quick glance at the family history reveals that every last one of us is amiably, face-numbingly Polish. Despite a mutual love of potatoes and turning them into liquor, Polish is not Irish, so it would seem I am hardly qualified to speak of cocktails on St. Paddy’s Day. Drink what you will. I present for your enjoyment and utilization a selection of Irish and Irish-American toasts:
Moderation is a fatal thing — nothing succeeds like excess! - Oscar Wilde
May you be in Heaven half an hour ere the Devil knows you’re dead! - Traditional
Here’s to alcohol, the rose-colored glasses of life - F Scott Fitzgerald
In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria - Benjamin Franklin
(who is not of Irish descent but he grew up in Boston, so we’ll throw him a bone)
Work is the curse of the drinking classes. - Oscar Wilde
Were’t the last drop in the well
As I gasp’d upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,
’Tis to thee that I would drink.
- George Byron
To drinking. For When we drink, we get drunk.
When we get drunk, we fall asleep.
When we fall asleep, we commit no sin.
When we commit no sin, we go to heaven.
So, let's all get drunk, and go to heaven!
May you live all the days of your life.
— Jonathan Swift
And may I add: Happy St. Patrick’s Day.