Away! Away! The spell of arms and voices: the white arms of roads, their promise of close embraces and the black arms… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
What incensed him the most was the blatant jokes of the ones that passed it all off as a jest, pretending to… — 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
By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Beauty, the splendour of truth, is a gracious presence when the imagination contemplates intensely the truth of its own being or the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality. It speaks of… — 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
