The feelings excited by improper art are kinetic, desire or loathing. Desire urges us to posses, to go to something; loathing urges us to abandon, to go from something. These are kinetic emotions. The arts...

Your battles inspired me – not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.

But Noodynaady’s actual ingrate tootle is of come into the garner mauve and thy nice are stores of morning and buy me a bunch of iodines.

You made me confess the fears that I have. But I will tell you also what I do not fear. I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to...

My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being...

Only big words for ordinary things on account of the sound.

You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought.He walked on, waiting to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant by his side. Its ferrule followed lightly on the path,...

Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.

love” then perhaps my affection for you is a kind of love. I will tell you this that your soul seems to me to be the most beautiful and simple soul in the world and...

Her antiquity in preceding and surviving succeeding tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all her phases, rising and setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning: the...

The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.

Don’t you think there is a certain resemblance between the mystery of the Mass and what I am trying to do?…To give people some kind of intellectual pleasure or spiritual enjoyment by converting the bread...

He laughed to free his mind from his mind’s bondage.

So weenybeenyveenyteeny.

Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?

It grieved him plaguily, he said, to see the nuptial couch defrauded of its dearest pledges: and to reflect upon so many agreeable females with rich jointures, a prey for the vilest bonzes, who hide...

Sleep, where in the waste is the wisdom?

Drugs age you after mental excitement. Lethargy then. Why? Reaction. A lifetime in a night. Gradually changes your character.

The soul … has a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of the body. When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to...

You don’t know yet what money is. Money is power, when you have lived as long as I have. I know, I know. If youth but knew. But what does Shakespeare say? Put money in...

Such moments passed and the wasting fires of lust sprang up again. The verses passed from his lips and the inarticulate cries and the unspoken brutal words rushed forth from his brain to force a...

To speak of these things and to try to understand their nature and, having understood it, to try slowly and humbly and constantly to express, to press out again, from the gross earth or what...

To learn one must be humble. But life is the great teacher.

Here, and it goes on to appear now, she comes, a peacefugle, a parody’s bird, a peri potmother, a pringlpik in the ilandiskippy, with peewee and powwows in beggybaggy on her bickybacky and a flick...

and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By them, the man with my voice and my eyes and a ghost-woman with ashes on her breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler’s...

Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle’s to be. Northmen’s thing made southfolk’s place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed intooure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He...

The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue…

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.

A dark horse riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winning post, his mane moonflowing, his eyeballs stars.

—Pascal, if I remember rightly, would not suffer his mother to kiss him as he feared the contact of her sex.

La emoción trágica, efectivamente, es una cara que mira en dos direcciones: hacia el terror y hacia la piedad, y ambos son fases de ella. Habrás visto que uso la palabra paraliza. Quiero decir que...

What was after the universe? Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began? It could not be a wall; but there could be a thin...

Coffined thoughts around me, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words. Thoth, god of libraries, a birdgod, moonycrowned. And I heard the voice of that Egyptian highpriest. In painted chambers loaded with tilebooks. They are...

Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.

YesIsaidyesyesyesyesyes…YesIsaidyes! andagainyesyesyes — Molly Bloom

What was after the universe?Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began?

The light music of whisky falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

Never back a woman you defend, never get quit of a friend on whom you depend, never make face to a foe till he’s rife and never get stuck to another man’s pfife.

If you can put your five fingers throught it, it is a gate, if not a door.

Oblige me by taking away that knife. I can’t look at the point of it. It reminds me of Roman history.

What dreams would he have, not seeing. Life a dream for him. Where is the justice being born that way?

You have asked me what I would do and what I would not do. I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which...

Era estranho, outrossim, que ele sentisse um árido prazer em seguir até o fim as rígidas linhas da doutrina da Igreja e penetrasse em tétricos silêncios apenas para ouvir e sentir mais profundamente a sua...

History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching...

—Then, said Cranly, you do not intend to become a protestant?—I said that I had lost the faith, Stephen answered, but not that I had lost self-respect. What kind of liberation would that be to...

She was well primed with a good load of Delahunt’s port under her bellyband.

—Alone, quite alone. You have no fear of that. And you know what that word means? Not only to be separate from all others but to have not even one friend.—I will take the risk,...

For that (the rapt one warns) is what papyr is meed of, made of, hides and hints and misses in prints.