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“Unsheathe your dagger definitions; Horseness is the Whatness of All Horse...”
James Joyce
“He imagined that he stood near Emma in a wide land and, humbly and in tears, bent and kissed the elbow of her sleeve.”
“Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low!”
“Wipe your glasses with what you know.”
“Thanks be to God we lived so long and did so much good.”
“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.”
“Bite my laughters, drink my tears. Pore into me, volumes, spell me stark and spill me swooning, I just don’t care what my thwarters think.”
“We who live under heaven, we of the clovery kindgom, we middlesins people have often watched the sky overreaching the land.”
“The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed.”
“The leaning of sophists toward the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant quantity. The highroads are dreary but they lead to the town.”
“The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder of rank weed.”
“School and home seem to recede from us and their influences upon us seemed to wane.”
“With will will we withstand, withsay.”
“Only big words for ordinary things on account of the sound.”
“It is a curious thing, do you know, Cranly said dispassionately, how your mind is supersaturated with the religion in which you say you disbelieve.”
“His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.”
“Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very peripatetic.”
“The men that is now is only all palaver and what they can get out of you.”
“Each imagining himself to be the first last and only alone, whereas he is neither first last nor last nor only not alone in a series originating in and repeated to infinity.”
“Love me. Love my umbrella.”
“If we were all suddenly somebody else.”
“It could not be a wall but there could be a thin thin line there all round everything.”
“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.”
“You have asked me what I would do and what I would not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use--silence, exile, and cunning.”