“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
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke… — 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
A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Well, Tommy, he said, I wish you and yours every joy in life, old chap, and tons of money, and may you… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Then Nuvoletta reflected for the last time in her little long life and she made up all her myriads of drifting minds… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life. A wild angel appeared to him, the angel… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Everything in Paris is gay," said Ignatius Gallaher. "They believe in enjoying life--and don't you think they're right? If you want to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Come on, you winefizzling, ginsizzling, booseguzzling existences! Come on, you dog-gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage!… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Like the tender fire of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He watched the scene and thought of life; and (as always happened when he thought of life) he became sad. A gentle… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The personality of the artist, at first a cry or a cadence or a mood and then a fluid, and lambent narrative,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His sensitive nature was still smarting under the lashes of an undivided and squalid way of life. His soul was still disquieted… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“It pained him that he did not know well what politics meant and that he did not know where the universe ended.… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Most people have some purpose or other in their lives. Aristotle says that the end of every being is its greatest good.… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea! How simple and beautiful was life after all! — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“It surprised him to see that the play which he had known at rehearsals for a disjointed lifeless thing had suddenly assumed… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Life seemed to him a gift; the statement ‘I am alive’ seemed to him to contain a satisfactory certainty and many other… — 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
