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He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself: A day of dappled seaborne clouds.
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
Clouds
Softly
Drew
Phrase
Spokes
Spoke
Phrases
Treasure
Forth
Dappled
More quotes by James Joyce
I'll tickle his catastrophe.
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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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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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A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
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Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.
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And Jesus was a Jew too. Your god. He was a Jew like me. And so was his father.
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When I die Dublin will be written on my heart.
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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.
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Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.
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And when all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the wholesale whoppers other fellows coined about him.
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So you need hardly spell me how every word will be bound over to carry three score and ten toptypsical readings throughout the book of Doublends Jined.
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History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.
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You forget that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence: and the kingdom of heaven is like a woman.
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The incompatibility of aquacity with the erratic originality of genius.
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Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.
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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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What did it avail to pray when he knew his soul lusted after its own destruction?
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Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
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Men are governed by lines of intellect - women: by curves of emotion.
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