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Life is the great teacher.

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
Teacher
Great
Life

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People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.
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Though people may read more into Ulysses than I ever intended, who is to say that they are wrong: do any of us know what we are creating?Which of us can control our scribblings? They are the script of one's personality like your voice or your walk
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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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Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?
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History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
James Joyce
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What? Corpus. Body. Corpse. Good idea the Latin. Stupifies them first. Hospice for the dying. They don't seem to chew it only swallow it down.
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Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.
James Joyce
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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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A man's errors are his portals of discovery.
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Too excited to be genuinely happy
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O, dread and dire word. Eternity! What mind of man can understand it?
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There is not past, no future everything flows in an eternal present.
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and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.
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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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Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.
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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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[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
James Joyce
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Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: ----Introibo ad altare Dei.
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There's no police like Holmes.
James Joyce
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White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
James Joyce