I have the words already. What I am seeking is the perfect order of words in the sentence. You can see for… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend… — 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
I am damnably sick of Italy, Italian and Italians, outrageously, illogically sick.... I hate to think that Italians ever did anything in… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
You ask me why I don’t love you, but surely you must believe I am very fond of you and if to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life,… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
An improper art aims at exciting in the way of comedy the feeling of desire but the feeling which is proper to… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed: and… — James Joyce Copy Share Image
I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant,… — 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
Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home. — 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
