My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“It wounded him to think that he would never be but a shy guest at the feast of the world's culture.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Pity is the feeling which arrests the mind in the presence of whatesoever is grave and constant in human sufferings and unites… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His brain was simmering and bubbling within the cracking tenement of the skull.Flames burst forth from his skull like a corolla,shrieking like… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Every age must look for its sanction to its poetry and philosophy, for in these the human mind, as it looks backward… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
What incensed him the most was the blatant jokes of the ones that passed it all off as a jest, pretending to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His life would be lonely too until he, too, died, ceased to exist, became a memory - if anyone remembered him.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The end he had been born to serve yet did not see had led him to escape by an unseen path and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“She said he just looked as if he was asleep, he looked that peaceful and resigned. No one would think he'd make… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He watched the scene and thought of life; and (as always happened when he thought of life) he became sad. A gentle… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He was alone. He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The philosophic mind inclines always to an elaborate life--the life of Goethe or of Leonardo da Vinci; but the life of the… — 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
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“And it was the din of all these hollow-sounding voices that made him halt irresolutely in the pursuit of phantoms. He gave… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A Classical style... is the syllogism of art, the only legitimate process from one world to another. Classicism is not the manner… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He was sitting in the midst of a children's party at Harold's Cross. His silent watchful manner had grown upon him and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Then Nuvoletta reflected for the last time in her little long life and she made up all her myriads of drifting minds… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His sensitive nature was still smarting under the lashes of an undivided and squalid way of life. His soul was still disquieted… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The romantic temper, so often and so grievously misinterpreted and not more by others than by its own, is an insecure, unsatisfied,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Stephen watched the three glasses being raised from the counter as his father and his two cronies drank to the memory of… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“It pained him that he did not know well what politics meant and that he did not know where the universe ended.… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A dim antagonism gathered force within him and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty: and when it passed, cloudlike,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
By an epiphany he meant a sudden spiritual manifestation, whether in the vulgarity of speech or of gesture or memorable phrase of… — 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
