“What did it proft a man to gain the whole world if he lost his soul?” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Our souls, shame-wounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flown at it to hold it back from… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Each lost soul will be a hell unto itself, the boundless fire raging in its very vitals. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
What did it avail to pray when he knew his soul lusted after its own destruction? — James Joyce Copy Share Image
All things are inconstant except the faith in the soul, which changes all things and fills their inconstancy with light... — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A certain pride, a certain awe, withheld him from offering to God even one prayer at night, though he knew it was… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Frequent and violent temptations were a proof that the citadel of the soul had not fallen and that the devil raged to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The eyes, too, were reptilelike in glint and gaze. Yet at that instant, humbled and alert in their look, they were lit… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I confess that I do not see what good it does to fulminate against the English tyranny while the Roman tyranny occupies… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. She… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The soul is born, he said vaguely, first in those moments I told you of. It has a slow and dark birth,… — 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 soul ... has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a… — 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
The artist who could disentangle the subtle soul of the image from its mesh of defining circumstances most exactly and 're-embody' it… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Away! Away! The spell of arms and voices: the white arms of roads, their promise of close embraces and the black arms… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
You ask me why I don’t love you, but surely you must believe I am very fond of you and if to… — 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
