'History,' Stephen said, 'is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake |
a case of too many people in a small space. |
A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery. |
A man's errors are his portals of discovery. |
A nation is the same people living in the same place. |
According to his brother Stanislaus . . . 'Unhappiness was like a vice.' He was cold and distant except with those closest to him, but when, on his mother's death, he discovered a bundle of letters that his father had written to her before they were married, he spent the whole afternoon reading them 'with as little compunction as a doctor or a lawyer . . . puts questions.' When he had finished, Stanislaus asked him: 'Well?' 'Nothing,' James Joyce answered curtly and rather contemptuously. Nothing, thought Stanislaus, for the young poet with a mission, but clearly something for the woman who had kept them all those years of neglect and poverty. |
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. |
And his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes |
And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes. |
As for Tolstoy, ... I disagree with you altogether. Tolstoy is a magnificent writer. He is never dull, never stupid, never tired, never pedantic, never theatrical! |
Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age. |
By the age of 45, I knew I could no longer start a sentence with a mention of strudel. My fingers would want to do it but my mind just wouldn't react. |
Christopher Columbus, as everyone knows, is honored by posterity because he was the last to discover America. |
Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job. |
Ever looked sufficiently at a quite everyday looking stamped addressed envelope? Admittedly it is an outer husk: its face, in all its featureful perfection of imperfection, is its fortune: it exhibits only the civil or military clothing of whatever p |