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Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub.
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
Without
Dublin
Good
Pubs
Would
Puzzle
Puzzles
Passings
Cross
Crosses
Passing
More quotes by James Joyce
Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time.
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And when all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the wholesale whoppers other fellows coined about him.
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British Beatitudes! ... Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs, battleships, buggery and bishops.
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A nation is the same people living in the same place.
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The artist... standing in the position of mediator between the world of his experience and the world of his dreams - 'a mediator, consequently gifted with twin faculties, a selective faculty and a reproductive faculty.' To equate these faculties was the secret of artistic success.
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People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.
James Joyce
His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.
James Joyce
History is that nightmare from which there is no awakening.
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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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Shut your eyes and see.
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To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life.
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No pen, no ink, no table, no room, no time, no quiet, no inclination.
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Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand.
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History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
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And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.
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I could call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child's play, ugly monotonous child's play.
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Save the trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of Eire, O.
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The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.
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A man's errors are his portals of discovery.
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And Jesus was a Jew too. Your god. He was a Jew like me. And so was his father.
James Joyce
