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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.
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
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Poet
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Writer
James Augustine Aloysius Joyce
Back
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Way
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Environs
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Castles
More quotes by James Joyce
And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as a bird's life, gay in the morning, restless all day, tired at sundown? Her heart simple and willful as a bird's heart?
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Fall if you will, but rise you must.
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Pity is the feeling which arrests the mind in the presence of whatesoever is grave and constant in human sufferings and unites it with the human sufferer.
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Each lost soul will be a hell unto itself, the boundless fire raging in its very vitals.
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Too excited to be genuinely happy
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I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses
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An improper art aims at exciting in the way of comedy the feeling of desire but the feeling which is proper to comic art is the feeling of joy.
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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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Love me. Love my umbrella.
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If the Irish programme did not insist on the Irish language I suppose I could call myself a nationalist. As it is, I am content torecognize myself an exile: and, prophetically, a repudiated one.
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He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.
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Quotation marks quotato marks! Bah!
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Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.
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Alone, what did Bloom feel? The cold of interstellar space, thousands of degrees below freezing point or the absolute zero of Fahrenheit, Centigrade or RĂ©aumur: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn.
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Wipe your glosses with what you know.
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Every age must look for its sanction to its poetry and philosophy, for in these the human mind, as it looks backward or forward, attains to an eternal state.
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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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His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
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O cold ! O shivery ! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off this once.
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