“two cronies drank to the memory of their past. An abyss of fortune or of temperament sundered him from them. His mind… — 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
Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day. — 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
“Such moments passed and the wasting fires of lust sprang up again. The verses passed from his lips and the inarticulate cries… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Saying that a great genius is mad, while at the same time recognizing his artistic worth, is like saying that he had… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Pincushions. I'm a long time threatening to buy one. Sticking them all over the place. Needles in window curtains.” — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“He would fade into something impalpable under her eyes and then in a moment he would be transfigured. Weakness and timidity and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His thinking was a dusk of doubt and selfmistrust lit up at moments by the lightnings of intuition, but lightnings of so… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Why was he kneeling there like a child saying his evening prayers? To be alone with his soul, to examine his conscience,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your… — 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
The Irish are people who will never have leaders, for at the great moment they always desert them. They have produced one… — 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
By an epiphany he meant a sudden spiritual manifestation, whether in the vulgarity of speech or of gesture or memorable phrase of… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“Stephen watched the three glasses being raised from the counter as his father and his two cronies drank to the memory of… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment. — 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
