Saint Patrick, bless his soul, scattered the snakes to free Ireland from sin.  Would he but turn over in his grave if he could see how his very own name is a rally call for the evils of drink.  Better for him, and for all of us, that we should pass his day enjoying the very best of Ireland and leaving the drinking of the ale to the Godless Brits.  So here I offer you just a bit of the Irish Humor as eloquently stated by that great challenger of all that is believed to be proper, the man who was truly a great man among men, none other than the most mischievous Oscar Wilde.

I can resist everything except temptation.

Life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about it.

I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly.

It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.

My experience is that as soon as people are old enough to know better, they don’t know anything at all.

Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.

History is merely gossip. But scandal is gossip made tedious by morality.

My own business always bores me to death. I prefer other people’s.

I prefer women with a past. They’re always so dammed amusing to talk to.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.

What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.

What a pity that in life we only get our lessons when they are of no use to us.