Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Death, a cause of terror to the sinner, is a blessed moment for him who has walked in the right path. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“...before all this has time to end the golden age must return with its vengeance. Man will become dirigible...” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Another life! A life of grace and virtue and happiness! It was true. It was not a dream from which he would… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The Irish are people who will never have leaders, for at the great moment they always desert them. They have produced one… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
James Joyce Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to… — 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
“Why was he kneeling there like a child saying his evening prayers? To be alone with his soul, to examine his conscience,… — 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
I came in at half past eleven. Since then I have been sitting in an easy chair like a fool. I could… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Some undefined sorrow was hidden in the hearts of the protagonists as they stood in silence beneath the leafless trees and when… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“A wave of yet more tender joy escaped from his heart, and went coursing in warm flood along his arteries. Like the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Like the tender fire of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke… — 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
“His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Her antiquity in preceding and surviving succeeding tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Such moments passed and the wasting fires of lust sprang up again. The verses passed from his lips and the inarticulate cries… — 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
“INELUCTABLE MODALITY OF THE VISIBLE: AT LEAST THAT IF NO MORE, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He did not want to play. He wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantial image which his soul so constantly… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppled masonry, and time one livid final flame. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Amen.So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in… — 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
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time. — 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
