“...the obscure soul of the world, a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“How beautiful must be a soul in the state of grace when God looked upon it with love!” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His soul had loved to muse in secret on this desire. He had seen himself, a young and silent-mannered priest, entering a… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
What did it avail to pray when he knew his soul lusted after its own destruction? — James Joyce Copy Share Image
All things are inconstant except the faith in the soul, which changes all things and fills their inconstancy with light... — 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
Our souls, shame-wounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Each lost soul will be a hell unto itself, the boundless fire raging in its very vitals. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A certain pride, a certain awe, withheld him from offering to God even one prayer at night, though he knew it was… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He closed his eyes in the languor of sleep. His eyelids trembled as if they felt the vast cyclic movement of the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantial image which his soul so constantly beheld.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The soul is born, he said vaguely, first in those moments I told you of. It has a slow and dark birth,… — 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
“But he could no longer disbelieve in the reality of love, since God Himself had loved his individual soul with divine love… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
The artist who could disentangle the subtle soul of the image from its mesh of defining circumstances most exactly and 're-embody' it… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Amen.So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. She… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“The soul ... has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“What did it proft a man to gain the whole world if he lost his soul?” — 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
