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My intention was to write a chapter of the moral history of my country and I chose Dublin for the scene because that city seemed to me the centre of paralysis.
James Joyce
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James Joyce
Age: 58 †
Born: 1882
Born: February 2
Died: 1941
Died: January 13
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James Augustine Aloysius Joyce
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More quotes by James Joyce
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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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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Thought is the thought of thought.
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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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And the first till last alshemist wrote over every square inch of the only foolscap available, his own body, till by its corrosive sublimation one continuous present tense integument slowly unfolded all marryvoising moodmoulded cyclewheeling history.
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Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined.
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Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned.
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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 am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.
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He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself: A day of dappled seaborne clouds.
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A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
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In the particular is contained the universal.
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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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I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses
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Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
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All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
James Joyce
The apprehensive faculty must be scrutinised in action.
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White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
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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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There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin.
James Joyce