A Quote by Ardal O'Hanlon

I'm Irish. I don't know how to take a compliment. — © Ardal O'Hanlon
I'm Irish. I don't know how to take a compliment.
Who doesn't love a compliment? But every compliment comes with a warning: Beware—Do Not Overuse. Go ahead, sniff your compliment. Take a little sip. But don't chew, don't swallow. If you do, you risk abandoning the good work that inspired the compliment in the first place. If that happens, maybe it was the compliment and not the job well done that you were aiming for all along.
I really don't even know how to take a compliment honestly.
All I knew about Ireland before I went there was what I learned from watching soap commercials all my life. I was totally misinformed. I thought it was an Irish tradition where you don't even take a shower with your soap - you take your soap for a walk, you compliment the soap for a little while and then, suddenly, you just start hacking it up with a hunting knife.
For me it's a compliment, playing baddie characters. I take it as a compliment.
The English and Americans dislike only some Irish--the same Irish that the Irish themselves detest, Irish writers--the ones that think.
We are searching for the same thing,” Stripey said. “How do you know?” Janco asked. “I read his mind.” The Sitian pointed to Ari. “Yours was too…chaotic. Too many useless thoughts to wade through.” A compliment or an insult? Janco guessed compliment and preened.
I'm one hundred percent Irish, and I'm very proud that I'm Irish American, though I don't know exactly where my ancestors came from. I just know County Cork.
For those of us who are fortunate to share an Irish ancestry, we take great pride in the contributions that Irish-Americans.
You should be thankful that dark colors suit you. Not everyone wears black well." "Why, Lady Olivia, is that a compliment?" "Not so much as a compliment to you as an insult to everyone else," she assured him. "Thanks heaven for that. I don't think I would know how to conduct myself in a world in which you offered compliments.
I know Irish-American people. I know what their homes look like. I know what they have for dinner. I know how they turn a phrase.
All my family look Irish. They act Irish. My sister even has red hair... it's crazy. I'm the one that doesn't seem Irish. None of the kids in my family, my siblings, speak with an Irish accent... we've never lived there full-time; we weren't born there. We just go there once or twice a year. It's weird. Our parents sound Irish, but we don't.
Irish is harder to pull off. I know southern people and I really like the midwest, so I can tap into that a little bit. It's easier to sound angry with southern than it is Irish. Yelling Irish you can sound like an angry Leprechaun. I think me screaming like I am going to kill you in Irish doesn't work.
I feel warm toward my Irish side, but I don't know the country or the people. Hearing a traditional Irish fiddle, I feel very connected to Ireland, but that's a nostalgia many people feel who aren't Irish at all.
Yes, I am Irish and Indian, which would be the coolest blend in the world if my parents were around to teach me how to be Irish and Indian. But they're not here and haven't been for years, so I'm not really Irish or Indian. I am a blank sky, a human solar eclipse.
You gotta learn how to take a compliment, because I'm not going to stop making them.
People say I look like a vampire. I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not.
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