He passes, struck by the stare of truculent Wellington but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops… — 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
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
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
Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish… — 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
His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost. — 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
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
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
