“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
“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
“And yet and yet! That strained look on her face! A gnawing sorrow is there all the time. Her very soul is… — 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
“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
Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time. — 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
His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“A wave of yet more tender joy escaped from his heart, and went coursing in warm flood along his arteries. Like the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it… — 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
