“if it is thus, I ask emphatically whence comes this thusness.”

“By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him.”

“A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.”

“The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence: silence that is infinite of space: and swiftly, silently the sound is wafted over regions of cycles of cycles of generations that have lived.”

“No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.”

“You find my words dark. Darkness is in our souls, do you not think?”

“You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought.”

“Read your own obituary notice; they say you live longer. Gives you second wind. New lease of life.”

“I am other I now.”

“For the years, he felt, had not quenched his soul, or hers.”

“Lord, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low.”

“I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Can’t bring back time. Like holding water in your hand. Would you go back to then? Just beginning then. Would you?”

“Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.”

“[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.”

“The intellectual imagination! With me all or not at all. NON SERVIAM!”

“When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.”

“[A writer is] a priest of eternal imagination, transmuting the daily bread of experience into the radiant body of everliving life.”

“Write it, damn you, write it! What else are you good for?”

“It was cold autumn weather, but in spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse; every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow.”

“I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.”

“I'll tickle his catastrophe.”

“Pride and hope and desire like crushed herbs in his heart sent up vapours of maddening incense before the eyes of his mind.”

“Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.”

“His eyes were dimmed with tears, and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.”

“We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh”

“There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.”

“In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation.”

“In one letter that he had written to her then he had said: Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?”

“He wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantial image which his soul so constantly beheld.”

“I could call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child's play, ugly monotonous child's play.”

“Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.”

“The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue...”

“‎I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that is the only way of insuring one's immortality.”

“Life is too short to read a bad book”

“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.”

“Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.”

“A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory.”

“Three quarks for Muster Mark!”

“Yes, it was her he was looking at, and there was meaning in his look. His eyes burned into her as though they would search her through and through, read her very soul.”

“A wave of yet more tender joy escaped from his heart, and went coursing in warm flood along his arteries. Like the tender fires of stars moments of their life together, that no one knew of, or would ever know of, broke upon and illumined his memory..”

“There were so many different moods and impressions that he wished to express in verse. He felt them within him. He tried to weigh his soul to see if it was a poet's soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy.”

“The artist, like the God of creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails”

“The Gracehoper was always jigging ajog, hoppy on akkant of his joyicity.”

“...and yes I said yes I will Yes.”

“In the ignorance that implies the impression that knits knowledge that finds the nameform that whets the wits that convey contacts that sweeten sensation that drives desire that adheres to attachment that dogs death that bitches birth that entails the ensuance of existentiality.”

“As I am. As I am. All or not at all.”

“And you’ll miss me more as the narrowing weeks wing by. Someday duly, oneday truly, twosday newly, till whensday.”

“My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.”

“Longest way round is the shortest way home.”

“Oh Ireland my first and only love Where Christ and Caesar are hand in glove!”