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He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.

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
Homesickness
Chaos
Sick
Place
Thought
Heart

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Christopher Columbus, as everyone knows, is honored by posterity because he was the last to discover America.
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In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation.
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I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses
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Tenors get women by the score.
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His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.
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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 I die Dublin will be written on my heart.
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To discover the mode of life or of art whereby my spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom.
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[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
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I am a worker, a tombstone mason, anxious to pleace averyburies and jully glad when Christmas comes his once ayear.
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A nation is the same people living in the same place.
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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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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.
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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.
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I care not if I live but a day and a night, so long as my deeds live after me.
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There's many a true word spoken in jest.
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The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
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