James Joyce Quotes
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Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.
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Men are governed by lines of intellect - women: by curves of emotion.
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Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.
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Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.
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The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit. (683)
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In the name of the former and of the latter and of their holocaust. Allmen. (419.9-10)
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Vast wings above the lambent waters broodOf sullen day.
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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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Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.
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All things are inconstant except the faith in the soul, which changes all things and fills their inconstancy with light, but though I seem to be driven out of my country as a misbeliever I have found no man yet with a faith like mine.
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Seraphim,The lost hosts awaken
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The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
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No pen, no ink, no table, no room, no time, no quiet, no inclination.
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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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It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked looking-glass of a servant.
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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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Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.
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But all they are all there scraping along to sneeze out a likelihood that will solve and salve life's robulous rebus (12.32-33)
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He comes into the world God knows how, walks on the water, gets out of his grave and goes up off the Hill of Howth. What drivel is this?
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When I hear the word 'stream' uttered with such a revolting primness, what I think of is urine and not the contemporary novel. And besides, it isn't new, it is far from the dernier cri. Shakespeare used it continually, much too much in my opinion, and there's Tristram Shandy, not to mention the Agamemnon.
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My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
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But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.
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He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible.
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A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place, Is the Pen Mightier than the Sword? A Successful Career in the Civil Service.