Quote

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 preasure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.

James Joyce

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James Joyce
Age: 58 †
Born: 1882
Born: February 2
Died: 1941
Died: January 13
Author
Father
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Teacher
Writer
James Augustine Aloysius Joyce
Speech
Timid
Brain
Darker
Though
Vague
Sound
Vehicle
Felt
Unknown
Touched
Swoon
Lips
Softer
Sin
Odor

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Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: ----Introibo ad altare Dei.
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What kind of liberation would that be to forsake an absurdity which is logical and coherent and to embrace one which is illogical and incoherent?
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People could put up with being bitten by a wolf but what properly riled them was a bite from a sheep.
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For myself, I always write about Dublin, because if I can get to the heart of Dublin I can get to the heart of all the cities of the world. In the particular is contained the universal.
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History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.
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Frequent and violent temptations were a proof that the citadel of the soul had not fallen and that the devil raged to make it fall.
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A dim antagonism gathered force within him and darkened his mind as a cloud against her disloyalty: and when it passed, cloudlike, leaving his mind serene and dutiful towards her again, he was made aware dimly and without regret of a first noiseless sundering of their lives.
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Love, yes. Word known to all men.
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Let my country die for me.
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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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I'll tickle his catastrophe.
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History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
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He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life
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He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.
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Broken heart. A pump after all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day. One fine day it gets bunged up and there you are... Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else. The resurrection and the life. Once you are dead you are dead.
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Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.
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What did it avail to pray when he knew his soul lusted after its own destruction?
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Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself the soul being unable to become virgin again and not having energy enough to cast itself out again into the ocean of another s soul.
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What was after the universe? Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began?
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