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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
History
Human
Humans
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Moving
More quotes by James Joyce
A man's errors are his portals of discovery.
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His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
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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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The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.
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Let my country die for me.
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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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There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin.
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When I die Dublin will be written on my heart.
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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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One great part of every human existence is passed in a state which cannot be rendered sensible by the use of wideawake language, cutanddry grammar and goahead plot.
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Beware the horns of a bull, the heels of the horse, and the smile of an Englishman.
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I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.
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The apprehensive faculty must be scrutinised in action.
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There is not past, no future everything flows in an eternal present.
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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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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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I don't mean to presume to dictate to you in the slightest degree but why did you leave your father's house? MTo seek misfortune, was Stephen's answer.
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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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White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
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Thought is the thought of thought.
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