Saint Patrick County

Saint Patrick is a county in Trinidad and Tobago which occupies an area of 673 km2 (260 mi2). It occupies the southwestern peninsula of the island of Trinidad and is bounded by the Columbus Channel to the south, the Gulf of Paria to the west, and Victoria to the north. It includes the towns of Point Fortin, La Brea, Siparia, Cedros, Fyzabad and Penal. Saint Patrick is divided into four Wards - Cedros, La Brea, Erin and Siparia.

Prior to 1990 local government was administered by the Saint Patrick County Council and the Point Fortin Borough Corporation. After 1990, areas formerly administered by the Saint Patrick County Council were divided between the Penal-Debe and Siparia Regional Corporations.

Famous quotes containing the words saint patrick, saint, patrick and/or county:

    O Paddy dear, an’ did ye hear the news that’s goin’ round?
    The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground!
    No more Saint Patrick’s Day we’ll keep, his colour can’t be seen,
    For there’s a cruel law agin the wearin’ o’ the Green!
    —Unknown. The Wearing of the Green (l. 37–40)

    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
    For he today that sheds his blood with me
    Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition.
    And gentlemen in England now abed
    Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
    William Shakespeare (1564–1616)

    What strikes many twin researchers now is not how much identical twins are alike, but rather how different they are, given the same genetic makeup....Multiples don’t walk around in lockstep, talking in unison, thinking identical thoughts. The bond for normal twins, whether they are identical or fraternal, is based on how they, as individuals who are keenly aware of the differences between them, learn to relate to one another.
    —Pamela Patrick Novotny (20th century)

    Hold hard, my county darlings, for a hawk descends,
    Golden Glamorgan straightens, to the falling birds.
    Your sport is summer as the spring runs angrily.
    Dylan Thomas (1914–1953)