“In the ignorance that implies the impression that knits knowledge that finds the nameform that whets the wits that convey contacts that… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Pride and hope and desire like crushed herbs in his heart sent up vapours of maddening incense before the eyes of his… — 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
Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed… — 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
An improper art aims at exciting in the way of comedy the feeling of desire but the feeling which is proper to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I could call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The feelings excited by improper art are kinetic, desire or loathing. Desire urges us to posses, to go to something; loathing urges… — 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 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
