Quote by James Joyce Download Open image ““The shortest way to Tara is via Holyhead”” — James Joyce ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 4.8 out of 5 (10 ratings) Copy quoteShare
“Was Tara still standing? Or was Tara also gone with the wind which had swept through Georgia?” — Margaret Mitchell Copy Share Image
“All I know is, she is the wild warrior goddess with the flaming sword of righteousness. Do not mess with her, man, or she… — Shannon McKenna Copy Share Image
“Praise be to the Weaver and all the gods!' said Shalhassan of Cathal. 'Finally she's done something adult!” — Guy Gavriel Kay Copy Share Image
“At the edge of the village, Loretta saw a group of men milling, their horses ground-tied and outfitted for travel. “Are those men going… — Catherine Anderson Copy Share Image
Go back' Taran shouted at the top of his voice.'Have you lost your wits?' Eilonwy, for it was she, half-halted. She had tucked her… — Lloyd Alexander Copy Share Image
Scarlett, from the ashes of the war-ravaged land at Tara, remembering what she was taught by her father in happier times: "As God is… — Vivien Leigh Copy Share Image
“She takes deliberately slow steps toward me and I'm a second away from dropping at her feet. This girl is a goddess and I… — Cheryl McIntyre Copy Share Image
“Some thirty inches from my nose The frontier of my Person goes, And all the untilled air between Is private pagus or demesne. Stranger,… — W.H. Auden 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
