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54f247f
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If he had smiled why would he have smiled? To reflect that each one who enters imagines himself to be the first to enter whereas he is always the last term of a preceding series even if the first term of a succeeding one, each imagining himself to be first, last, only and alone whereas he is neither first nor last nor only nor alone in a series originating in and repeated to infinity.
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James Joyce |
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9274863
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Love between man and woman is impossible because there must not be sexual intercourse, and friendship between man and woman is impossible because there must be sexual intercourse.
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James Joyce |
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68654b4
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Let us leave theories there and return to here's hear.
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James Joyce |
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051b8bb
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Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.
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James Joyce |
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af494b2
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He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.
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James Joyce |
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de993ee
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Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching her as she undid her gown, noting the proud conscious movements of her perfumed head. As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely. Her round arms held him firmly to her and he, seeing her face lifted to him..
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sex
woman
kiss
emotion
joy
love
held
overcome
embrace
lust
lips
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James Joyce |
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6cc9f89
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Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of or would ever know of, broke upon and illuminated his memory.
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James Joyce |
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0a9a625
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if it is thus, I ask emphatically whence comes this thusness.
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James Joyce |
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566f76b
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A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
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James Joyce |
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b4e36b1
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You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought.
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James Joyce |
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9417417
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No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.
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James Joyce |
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924204a
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Beware the horns of a bull, the heels of the horse, and the smile of an Englishman.
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James Joyce |
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a07846b
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For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul, or hers.
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James Joyce |
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e5994e6
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By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him.
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James Joyce |
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600bd2a
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You find my words dark. Darkness is in our souls, do you not think?
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darkness
soul
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James Joyce |
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b46b268
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Lord, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low.
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humor
hoyce
wake
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James Joyce |
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027964f
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The soul is born, he said vaguely, first in those moments I told you of. It has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets.
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James Joyce |
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f368cbb
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Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through those sweet summer evenings was beautiful but with the pale passionless beauty of a pearl. Your love has passed through me and now I feel my mind something like an opal, that is, full of strange uncertain hues and colours, of warm lights and quick shadows and of broken music.
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James Joyce |
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2ec1739
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He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones. Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter.
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James Joyce |
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2af608f
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The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence: silence that is infinite of space: and swiftly, silently the sound is wafted over regions of cycles of cycles of generations that have lived.
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James Joyce |
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321e94d
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Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration.
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James Joyce |
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c511d3c
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Read your own obituary notice; they say you live longer. Gives you second wind. New lease of life.
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obituary
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James Joyce |
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54cfd88
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a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
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to-think-about
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James Joyce |
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fff9d85
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I've been working hard on [Ulysses] all day," said Joyce. Does that mean that you have written a great deal?" I said. Two sentences," said Joyce.
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James Joyce |
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5b6ce35
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I have left my book, I have left my room,
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James Joyce |
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967a4b8
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Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love; Lay aside sadness and sing How love that passes is enough. Sing about the long deep sleep Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.
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sadness
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James Joyce |
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cea841c
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When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.
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James Joyce |
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3de6a39
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I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand. Would you go back to then? Just beginning then. Would you?
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James Joyce |
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d851132
|
I wish some man or other would take me sometime when hes there and kiss me in his arms theres nothing like a kiss long and hot down to your soul almost paralyses you...I love flowers Id love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and waves rushing then the beautiful country with the fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about..
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James Joyce |
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261312e
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The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are paintings of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet bring our mind into contact with the eternal wisdom; Plato's world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys.
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James Joyce |
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488ab8f
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The intellectual imagination! With me all or not at all. NON SERVIAM!
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James Joyce |
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dee4325
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I'll tickle his catastrophe.
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James Joyce |
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5f6b847
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Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
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James Joyce |
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0be75b1
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Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes had called him and his soul had leaped at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life! A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and o..
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James Joyce |
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4203ac1
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It was cold autumn weather, but in spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse; every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow.
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James Joyce |
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7a66029
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He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every p..
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James Joyce |
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47ef28d
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I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.
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time
space
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James Joyce |
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aa8275a
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In one letter that he had written to her then he had said: Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?
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James Joyce |
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35dcd74
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To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life. A wild angel appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and on and on and on!
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James Joyce |
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9cfc169
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bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthur-nuk! [A sound which represents the symbolic thunderclap associated with the fall of Adam and Eve.]
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James Joyce |
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e19c783
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Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying: -- That is God. Hooray! Ay! Whrrwhee! -- What? Mr Deasy asked. -- A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.
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James Joyce |
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6e35fb5
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His eyes were dimmed with tears, and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.
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James Joyce |
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5893fba
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We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh
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James Joyce |
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c12b362
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To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what it brings forth, from sound and shape and colour which are the prison gates of our soul, an image of the beauty we have come to understand--that is art.
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artist
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James Joyce |