“What did that mean, to kiss? You put your face up like that to say good night and then his mother put… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles… — 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
I shall write a book some day about the appropriateness of names. Geoffrey Chaucer has a ribald ring, as is proper and… — 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
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Lily, the caretaker's daughter, was literally run off her feet. Hardly had she brought one gentleman into the little pantry behind the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
(...) You cruel creature, little mite of a thing with a heart the size of a fullstop. — 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
