“How beautiful must be a soul in the state of grace when God looked upon it with love!” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Beauty: it curves, curves are beauty. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world admires.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What beautiful is is another question” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
O cold ! O shivery ! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off this once. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Her bosom was as a bird's, soft and slight, slight and soft as the breast of some dark-plumaged dove. But her long… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“he met the eyes of others with unanswering eyes, for he felt that the spirit of beauty had folded him round like… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The mystery of esthetic like that of material creation is accomplished. The artist, like the god of the creation, remains within or… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Beauty, the splendour of truth, is a gracious presence when the imagination contemplates intensely the truth of its own being or the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life. A wild angel appeared to him, the angel… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Michael Robartes remembers forgotten beauty and, when his arms wrap her round, he presses in his arms the loveliness which has long… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The esthetic image in the dramatic form is life purified in and reprojected from the human imagination. The mystery of esthetic, like… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Truth is beheld by the intellect which is appeased by the most satisfying relations of the intelligible; beauty is beheld by the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The personality of the artist, at first a cry or a cadence or a mood and then a fluid, and lambent narrative,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The radiance of which he speaks is the scholastic quidditas, the whatness of a thing. The supreme quality is felt by the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His thinking was a dusk of doubt and selfmistrust lit up at moments by the lightnings of intuition, but lightnings of so… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible. — James Joyce Copy Share
Our civilization, bequeathed to us by fierce adventurers, eaters of meat and hunters, is so full of hurry and combat, so busy about many… — James Joyce Copy Share
Shaw's works make me admire the magnificent tolerance and broadmindedness of the english. — James Joyce Copy Share
“Do you know what Ireland is?' asked Stephen with cold violence. 'Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.” — James Joyce Copy Share
The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness. — James Joyce Copy Share
“two cronies drank to the memory of their past. An abyss of fortune or of temperament sundered him from them. His mind seemed older… — James Joyce Copy Share
He passes, struck by the stare of truculent Wellington but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy… — James Joyce Copy Share
I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppled masonry, and time one livid final flame. — James Joyce Copy Share
In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not… — James Joyce Copy Share
Though people may read more into Ulysses than I ever intended, who is to say that they are wrong: do any of us know… — James Joyce Copy Share
