When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water. — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters" All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird… — 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
He comes into the world God knows how, walks on the water, gets out of his grave and goes up off the… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
And in spite of everything, Ireland remains the brain of the Kingdom. The English, judiciously practical and ponderous, furnish the over-stuffed stomach… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
“A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed… — 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
