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All human history moves towards one great goal

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
Moves
Towards
Goal
Moving
History
Human
Humans
Great
Soccer

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We are all born in the same way but we all die in different ways.
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Love me. Love my umbrella.
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Sentimentality is unearned emotion.
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I am quite content to go down to posterity as a scissors and paste man for that seems to me a harsh but not unjust description
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Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid preasure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.
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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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Love, yes. Word known to all men.
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Wipe your glosses with what you know.
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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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and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.
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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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Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.
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The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.
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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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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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I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world.
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No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.
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