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“Cad é an mhaith dom eagla a bheith orm? Ní shaorfadh eagla duine ón m²úá²õ, dar ndóigh.”
― Peig Sayers, An Old Woman's Reflections: The Life of a Blasket Island Storyteller

“Seanabhean is ea mise anois go bhfuil cos léi insan uaigh is an chos eile ar a bruach. Is mó bogradh is cruatan curtha agam díom ón gcéad lá do saolaíodh me go dtí an lá atá inniu ann. Dá mbeadh ’fhios agam go mbeadh a leath, ná a thrian, i ndán dom ní bheadh mo chroí ná m’intinn chomh haerach ná chomh misníúil is do bhí i dtosach mo shaoil.”
― Peig Sayers, Peig: The Autobiography of Peig Sayers of the Great Blasket Island

“... and Brian Dooher is down injured. And while he is, I'll tell ye a little story. I was in Times Square in New York last week, and I was missing the Championship back home. So I approached a newsstand and I said 'I suppose you wouldn't have the Kerryman would you?' To which the Egyptian man behind the counter replied 'do you want the North Kerry edition or the South Kerry edition?'. He had both, so I bought both. And Dooher is back on his feet...”
― Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh

“There is a gate across the entrance, which Liam moves aside for me, and there is a scrabbling noise as a red blur comes zooming across the room. Liam reaches down and picks up the dervish, who licks him frantically. "Hello, girl. Nice to see you too. This is Anneke, she's a friend of mine. Anneke, this is Kerry. Like the country." I can finally see that she is an Irish setter, maybe four or five months old, and I reach out to pet her, and Liam drops her unceremoniously in my arms. She is soft and warm, and immediately snuggles cozily against me.
"Cute pup."
"Yeah, I have to say, she has stolen my heart."
"That's just because she's Irish."
"That might be it. Always did have a thing for redheads." This makes me blush, and I focus on cuddling the puppy to cover my discomfit.”
― Stacey Ballis, Recipe for Disaster