Quotes from James Joyce

he knew the way to take a woman when he sent me the 8 big poppies because mine was the 8th

The Irish, being underdogs, necessarily knew more than their rulers. Theirs was the perennial problem of quickwitted subjects under the governance of dull-witted administrators

Dammad and Groany, into her limited (tuff, tuff, que tu es pitre!) lapse at the same slapse for towelling ends in their dolightful Sexsex home, (...)

Therefore, everyman, look to that last end that is thy death and the dust that gripeth on every man that is born of woman for as he came naked forth from his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at the last for to go as he came.

Her shapely fingernails reddened by the blood of squashed lice from the children's shirts.

Damn it, I can understand a fellow being hard up but what I can't understand is a fellow sponging. Couldn't he have some spark of manhood about him?

their different

The light music of whiskey falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow : his navel, bud of flesh : and saw the dark tangled curls of his bush floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower. [84]

What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping thoughts after that evening! I wished to annihilate the tedious intervening days. I chafed against the work of school. At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read.

It is their segnall for old Champelysied to seek the shades of his retirement and for young Chappielassies to tear a round and tease their partners lovesoftfun at Finnegan's Wake.

They mouth love's language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh. Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung, As sour as cat's breath, Harsh of tongue.

He walked there, reading in the evening and heard the cries of the boys' lines at their play, young cries in the quiet evening. He was their rector: his reign was mild.

Take a fool's advice. All is not well.

Beingless beings. Stop! Throb always without you and the throb always within. Your heart you sing of. I between them. Where? Between two roaring worlds where they swirl, I. Shatter them, one and both. But stun myself too in the blow. Shatter me you who can. Bawd and butcher, were the words. I say! Not yet awhile. A look around.

You don't know yet what money is. Money is power, when you have lived as long as I have. I know, I know. If youth but knew. But what does Shakespeare say? Put money in thy purse.

I have met with you, bird, too late, or if not, too worm and early

He remembered well, with the curious patient memory of the celibate, the first casual caresses her dress, her breath, her fingers had given him…He remembered well her eyes, the touch of her hand and his delirium...

Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By them, the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghost-woman with ashes on her breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will.

That's so, says Martin. Or so they allege. --Who made those allegations? says Alf. --I, says Joe. I'm the alligator.

that was owl the God's clock it was

a zis ca am niste idei bizare si c-am citit prea mult. inexact. am citit prea putin si am inteles si mai putin. apoi a spus c-am sa ma inapoiez la credinta pentru ca am un spirit nelinistit.(...) i-am spus asta si i-am cerut sase penny. mi-a dat trei.

He was listening with pain of spirit to the overtone of weariness behind their frail fresh innocent voices. Even before they set out on life's journey they seemed weary already.

Yes, evening will find itself in me, without me.