The important thing is not what we write but how we write, and in my opinion the modern writer must be an… — 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
If the Irish programme did not insist on the Irish language I suppose I could call myself a nationalist. As it is,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
But we are living in a sceptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented age: and sometimes I fear that… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
If there is any difficulty in what I write, it is because of the material I use. The thought is always simple. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a… — 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
