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
“Don't you think there is a certain resemblance between the mystery of the Mass and what I am trying to do?...To give… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
To discover the mode of life or of art whereby my spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The artist... standing in the position of mediator between the world of his experience and the world of his dreams - 'a… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church:… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“As we, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, from day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“You have asked me what I would do and what I would not do. I will not serve that in which I… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low!” — 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 Image
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 Image
Shaw's works make me admire the magnificent tolerance and broadmindedness of the english. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Do you know what Ireland is?' asked Stephen with cold violence. 'Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“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 Image
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 Image
I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppled masonry, and time one livid final flame. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
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 Image
