Rock Mullaney: God invented the whiskey to keep the Irish from ruling the world.
Rock Mullaney: May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the warm sun shine on your face. May the soft rain fall on your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hands.
Joe Gill: And may you be three days in heaven before the Devil knows you're dead.
Beau Dorn: You shot me.
Rafe Covington: Just when things were going so good for you.
Rock Mullaney: A Frenchman, a German, and an Irishman go into a saloon and order whiskeys. The drinks arrive and there's a fly in each one.
Rock Mullaney: The Frenchman says, "Mon dieu! I can't drink this."
Rock Mullaney: The German flicks the fly out of the whiskey and drinks it down.
Rock Mullaney: The Irishman grabs the fly. He turns it upside down and he says, "Spit it out! Spit it out!"
Joe Gill: It's a wonder to me you lived much past 10 years old.
