Quote

Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love Lay aside sadness and sing How love that passes is enough. Sing about the long deep sleep Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.

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
Love
Deep
Lady
Dead
Graves
Shall
Gentle
Sleep
Lays
Song
Sadness
Ends
Lovers
Passes
Enough
Sing
Aside
Long
Songs
Grave

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He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.
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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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Wipe your glosses with what you know.
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Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish.
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This race and this country and this life produced me, he said. I shall express myself as I am.
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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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Absence, the highest form of presence.
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I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppled masonry, and time one livid final flame.
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His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
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A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
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Mr. Duffy lived a short distance from his body.
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In the particular is contained the universal.
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Love loves to love love.
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I shall write a book some day about the appropriateness of names. Geoffrey Chaucer has a ribald ring, as is proper and correct, and Alexander Pope was inevitably Alexander Pope. Colley Cibber was a silly little man without much elegance and Shelley was very Percy and very Bysshe.
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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.
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...rapid motion through space elates one.
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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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He comes into the world God knows how, walks on the water, gets out of his grave and goes up off the Hill of Howth. What drivel is this?
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