You get a decent do at the Brazen Head James Joyce More Quotes by James Joyce More Quotes From James Joyce [Robinson Crusoe] is the true prototype of the British colonist. The whole Anglo-Saxon spirit is in Crusoe: the manly independence, the unconscious cruelty, the persistence, the slow yet efficient intelligence, the sexual apathy, the calculating taciturnity. James Joyce persistence independence apathy Michael Robartes remembers forgotten beauty and, when his arms wrap her round, he presses in his arms the loveliness which has long faded from the world. Not this. Not at all. I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world. James Joyce desire beauty long A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out. James Joyce pins charm loses The artist... standing in the position of mediator between the world of his experience and the world of his dreams - 'a mediator, consequently gifted with twin faculties, a selective faculty and a reproductive faculty.' To equate these faculties was the secret of artistic success. James Joyce artist dream success In this life our sorrows are either not very long or not very great because nature either overcomes them by habits or puts an end to them by sinking under their weight. But in hell the torments cannot be overcome by habit, for while they are of terrible intensity they are at the same time of continual variety, each pain, so to speak, taking fire from another and re-endowing that which has enkindled it with a still fiercer flame. James Joyce flames pain fire And Jesus was a Jew too. Your god. He was a Jew like me. And so was his father. James Joyce atheism father jesus I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. James Joyce fart knows thinking And in spite of everything, Ireland remains the brain of the Kingdom. The English, judiciously practical and ponderous, furnish the over-stuffed stomach of humanity with a perfect gadget--the water closet. The Irish, condemned to express themselves in a language not their own, have stamped on it the mark of their own genius and compete for glory with the civilized nations. This is then called English literature. James Joyce humanity perfect water 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. James Joyce imagination giving reality We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh James Joyce loyal causes imagination My mouth is full of decayed teeth and my soul of decayed ambitions. James Joyce teeth ambition soul Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. James Joyce confused prayer heart What is better than to sit at the end of the day and drink wine with friends, or substitutes for friends? James Joyce drink the-end-of-the-day wine What did that mean, to kiss? You put your face up like that to say goodnight and then his mother put her face down. That was to kiss. His mother put her lips on his cheek; her lips were soft and they wetted his cheek; and they made a tiny little noise: kiss. Why did people do that with their two faces? James Joyce kissing mother mean Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger. James Joyce vanity eye darkness 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. James Joyce mother birthday children When I die Dublin will be written on my heart. James Joyce dublin dies heart White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak. James Joyce wine white looks A nation is the same people living in the same place. James Joyce nations people Time is, time was, but time shall be no more. James Joyce time
