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A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.

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
Woman
Every
Pins
Charm
Loses
Takes

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I think a child should be allowed to take his father's or mother's name at will on coming of age. Paternity is a legal fiction.
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Too excited to be genuinely happy
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I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppled masonry, and time one livid final flame.
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You forget that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence: and the kingdom of heaven is like a woman.
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When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.
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And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as a bird's life, gay in the morning, restless all day, tired at sundown? Her heart simple and willful as a bird's heart?
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The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder of rank weed.
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For myself, I always write about Dublin, because if I can get to the heart of Dublin I can get to the heart of all the cities of the world. In the particular is contained the universal.
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Christopher Columbus, as everyone knows, is honored by posterity because he was the last to discover America.
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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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White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea! How simple and beautiful was life after all!
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Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves.
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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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I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world.
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For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul, or hers.
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Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.
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Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.
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White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.
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People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.
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Nations have their ego, just like individuals.
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