Absence, the highest form of presence. — James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. (Penguin Classics; 1 edition, March 25, 2003) Originally published December 29th 1916. Advertisements
Love loves to love love. Nurse loves the new chemist. Constable 14A loves Mary Kelly. Gerty MacDowell loves the boy that has the bicycle. M.B. loves a fair genteman. Li Chi Han lovey up kissy Cha Pu Chow. Jumbo, the elephant, loves Alive, the elephant. Old Mr. Verschoyle with the ear trumpet loves old Mrs.… Continue reading James Joyce
Memories beset his brooding brain. — James Joyce, Ulysses (Sylvia Beach, 1922)
He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music. ― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. (Penguin Classics; 1 edition, March 25, 2003) Originally published December 29th 1916.
Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor. – James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. (Penguin Classics;… Continue reading James Joyce
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? — James Joyce, Ulysses. (Sylvia Beach 2 February 1922)
Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. — James Joyce from “Araby,” Dubliners (Grant Richards Ltd., 1914)