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Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined.
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
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Teacher
Writer
James Augustine Aloysius Joyce
Appreciative
Sincerity
Sincere
Appreciation
Gratitude
Regret
Grateful
Gratefully
Declined
More quotes by James Joyce
Shut your eyes and see.
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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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This race and this country and this life produced me, he said. I shall express myself as I am.
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For myself, I always write about Dublin, because if I can get to the heart of Dublin I can get to the heart of all the cities of the world. In the particular is contained the universal.
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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.
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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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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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There's many a true word spoken in jest.
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People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.
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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.
James Joyce
What did it avail to pray when he knew his soul lusted after its own destruction?
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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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Too excited to be genuinely happy
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And the first till last alshemist wrote over every square inch of the only foolscap available, his own body, till by its corrosive sublimation one continuous present tense integument slowly unfolded all marryvoising moodmoulded cyclewheeling history.
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Love between man and man is impossible because there must not be sexual intercourse and friendship between man and woman is impossible because there must be sexual intercourse.
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Love, yes. Word known to all men.
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I think a child should be allowed to take his father's or mother's name at will on coming of age. Paternity is a legal fiction.
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We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh
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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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