“He read the verses backwards but then they were not poetry.”

“He passes, struck by the stare of truculent Wellington but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.”

“The peace of the gardens and the kindly lights in the windows poured a tender influence into his restless heart.”

“Tell me. Tell me with your eyes.”

“When I find a lady who is content with her own picture I will send a bouquet to the Pope”

“This in no life for man or woman, insults and hatred and history.”

“Look at the woebegone walk of him. Eaten a bad egg. Poached eyes on ghost.”

“I fear more than that the chemical action which would be set up in my soul by a false homage to a symbol behind which are massed twenty centuries of authority and veneration.”

“Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eon of the gods.”

“But he was not sick there. He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.”

“Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you every

“He used to call her Poppens out of fun.”

“What proposal did Bloom, diambulist, father of Milly, somnambulist, make to Stephen, noctambulist?”

“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?”

“Do you know what Ireland is?' asked Stephen with cold violence. 'Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.”

“...her who whose beauty is not like earthly beauty, dangerous to look upon, but like the morning star which is its emblem, bright and musical.”

“It wounded him to think that he would never be but a shy guest at the feast of the world's culture.”

“The pity is that the public will demand and find a moral in my book, or worse they may take it in some serious way, and on the honour of a gentleman, there is not one single serious word in it.”

“The pity is that the public will demand and find a moral in my book, or worse they may take it in some serious way, and on the honour of a gentleman, there is not one single serious word in it.”

“I smiled at him. America, I said quietly, just like that. What is it? The sweepings of every country including our own. Isn't that true? That's a fact.”

“He found trivial all that was meant to charm him and did not answer the glances which invited him to be bold.”

“To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life.”

“This is the way to the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.”

“Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.”