“His mind seemed older than theirs: it shone coldly on their strifes and happiness and regrets like a moon upon a younger… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He had felt proud and happy then, happy that she was his, proud of her grace and wifely carriage.” — 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
“An abyss of fortune or of temperament sundered him from them. His mind seemed older than theirs: it shone coldly on their… — 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
“It grieved him plaguily, he said, to see the nuptial couch defrauded of its dearest pledges: and to reflect upon so many… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Yet too much happy bores. He stretched more, more. Are you not happy in your? Twang. It snapped.” — 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
