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Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time.
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
Upon
Desire
Time
Blasts
Blast
Rose
Wind
Becomes
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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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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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I shall write a book some day about the appropriateness of names. Geoffrey Chaucer has a ribald ring, as is proper and correct, and Alexander Pope was inevitably Alexander Pope. Colley Cibber was a silly little man without much elegance and Shelley was very Percy and very Bysshe.
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If Ireland is to become a new Ireland she must first become European.
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You made me confess the fears that I have. But I will tell you also what I do not fear. I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to leave whatever I have to leave. And I am not afraid to make a mistake, even a great mistake, a lifelong mistake and perhaps as long as eternity too.
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Quotation marks quotato marks! Bah!
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And Jesus was a Jew too. Your god. He was a Jew like me. And so was his father.
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Too excited to be genuinely happy
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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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Our civilization, bequeathed to us by fierce adventurers, eaters of meat and hunters, is so full of hurry and combat, so busy about many things which perhaps are of no importance, that it cannot but see something feeble in a civilization which smiles as it refuses to make the battlefield the test of excellence.
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The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole Life to reading my works.
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I am a worker, a tombstone mason, anxious to pleace averyburies and jully glad when Christmas comes his once ayear.
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I'll tickle his catastrophe.
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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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As you are now so once were we.
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