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Lord, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low.
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
Misery
Laughter
Lord
Upon
Entwine
Art
Miseries
Heap
Arts
Lows
More quotes by James Joyce
The incompatibility of aquacity with the erratic originality of genius.
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Thought is the thought of thought.
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O thanks be to the great God I got somebody to give me what I badly wanted to put some heart up into me youve no chances at all inthis place like you used long ago I wish somebody would write me a loveletter.
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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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I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day.
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His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
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It seems to me you do not care what banality a man expresses so long as he expresses it in Irish.
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He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.
James Joyce
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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The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.
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There's many a true word spoken in jest.
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[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
James Joyce
and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.
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Winds of May, that dance on the sea, Dancing a ring-around in glee From furrow to furrow, while overhead The foam flies up to be garlanded, In silvery arches spanning the air, Saw you my true love anywhere? Welladay! Welladay! For the winds of May! Love is unhappy when love is away!
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Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub.
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She would follow, her dream of love, the dictates of her heart that told her he was her all in all, the only man in all the world for her for love was the master guide. Come what might she would be wild, untrammelled, free.
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White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea! How simple and beautiful was life after all!
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Sentimentality is unearned emotion.
James Joyce
There is not past, no future everything flows in an eternal present.
James Joyce
Under cover of her silence he pressed her arm closely to his side and, as they stood at the hotel door, he felt that they had escaped from their lives and duties, escaped from home and friends and run away together with wild and radiant hearts to a new adventure.
James Joyce
