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In the name of Annah the Allmaziful, the Everliving, the Bringer of Plurabilities, haloed be her eve, her singtime sung, her rill be run, unhemmed as it is uneven!
James Joyce
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James Joyce
Age: 58 †
Born: 1882
Born: February 2
Died: 1941
Died: January 13
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James Augustine Aloysius Joyce
Uneven
Sung
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Bringer
More quotes by James Joyce
Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.
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Save the trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of Eire, O.
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What? Corpus. Body. Corpse. Good idea the Latin. Stupifies them first. Hospice for the dying. They don't seem to chew it only swallow it down.
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Absence, the highest form of presence.
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I could call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child's play, ugly monotonous child's play.
James Joyce
Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.
James Joyce
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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Thanks be to God we lived so long and did so much good.
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Our civilization, bequeathed to us by fierce adventurers, eaters of meat and hunters, is so full of hurry and combat, so busy about many things which perhaps are of no importance, that it cannot but see something feeble in a civilization which smiles as it refuses to make the battlefield the test of excellence.
James Joyce
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
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Let my country die for me.
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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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You forget that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence: and the kingdom of heaven is like a woman.
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You cannot eat your cake and have it.
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He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself containing a subject in the third person and a verb in the past tense.
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Too excited to be genuinely happy
James Joyce
History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.
James Joyce
If Ireland is to become a new Ireland she must first become European.
James Joyce
The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.
James Joyce
The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.
James Joyce