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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.
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Beauty, the splendour of truth, is a gracious presence when the imagination contemplates intensely the truth of its own being or the visible world, and the spirit which proceeds out of truth and beauty is the holy spirit of joy. These are realities and these alone give and sustain life.
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Ireland sober is Ireland stiff.
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The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay. (4.14-15)
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(Stoop) if you are abcedminded, to this claybook, what curios of signs (please stoop), in this allaphbed! Can you rede (since We and Thou had it out already) its world? It is the same told of all. Many. Miscegenations on miscegenations. Tieckle.
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But toms will till. I know he well.
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Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.
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One of his sentences, written two months after his last interview with Mrs. Sinico, read: Love between man and man is impossible because there must not be sexual intercourse and friendship between man and woman is impossible because there must be sexual intercourse.
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When I die Dublin will be written in my heart.
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Boor, bond of thy herd,Tonight stretch full by the fire!
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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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The pity is the public will demand and find a moral in my book - or worse they may take it in some more serious way, and on the honor of a gentleman, there is not one single serious line in it.
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A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
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History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
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Can you nei do her, numb? asks Dolph, suspecting the answer know. Oikkont, ken you, ninny? asks Kev, expecting the answer guess. (286.25-27)
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A nation is the same people living in the same place.
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She dealt with moral problems the way a cleaver deals with meat: and in this case she had made up her mind.
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The sly reeds whisper to the nightA name - her name -
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Three quarks for Muster Mark! (383.1)
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Again!
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I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day.
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My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.
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Quoint a quincidence! O.K. Omnius Kollidimus. As Ollover Krumwall sayed when he slepped ueber his grannyamother. Kangaroose feathers. Who in the name of thunder'd ever belevin you were that bolt?
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And mine a shielded heart for herWho gathers simples of the moon.