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Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.
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
Every
Thinking
Jackass
Jackasses
Roads
Thinks
Ideas
Going
More quotes by James Joyce
A certain pride, a certain awe, withheld him from offering to God even one prayer at night, though he knew it was in God's power to take away his life while he slept and hurl his soul hellward ere he could beg for mercy.
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Never let us do wrong, because our opponents did so. Let us, rather, by doing right, show them what they ought to have done, and establish a rule the dictates of reason and conscience, rather than of the angry passions.
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Lord, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low.
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[Robinson Crusoe] is the true prototype of the British colonist. The whole Anglo-Saxon spirit is in Crusoe: the manly independence, the unconscious cruelty, the persistence, the slow yet efficient intelligence, the sexual apathy, the calculating taciturnity.
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I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book.
James Joyce
White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
James Joyce
Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves.
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By an epiphany he meant a sudden spiritual manifestation, whether in the vulgarity of speech or of gesture or memorable phrase of the mind itself. He believed it was for the man of letters to record these epiphanies with extreme care (saving them for later use, that is), seeing that they themselves are the most delicate and evanescent of moments.
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Evening had fallen. A rim of the young moon cleft the pale waste of sky line, the rim of a silver hoop embedded in grey sand: and the tide was flowing in fast to the land with a low whisper of her waves, islanding a few last figures in distant pools.
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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.
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When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flown at it to hold it back from flight.
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The apprehensive faculty must be scrutinised in action.
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Fall if you will, but rise you must.
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All human history moves towards one great goal
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A man's errors are his portals of discovery.
James Joyce
The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.
James Joyce
For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul, or hers.
James Joyce
They lived and laughed and loved and left.
James Joyce
And Jesus was a Jew too. Your god. He was a Jew like me. And so was his father.
James Joyce
A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
James Joyce