Tír gan teanga, tír gan anam. A country without a language is a country without a soul.
The wise have pitied the fool that hath striven to give a life In the world of time and space among the bulks of actual things, To dream that was dreamed in the heart, and that only the heart could hold. Oh wise men, riddle me this: What if the dream...
The words of the bards come down the centuries to us, warm with living breath.
