Quotes from Joyce's 'Ulysses'

Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldham’s hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been knifed to death? They are not to be thought away. Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave, weaver of the wind.

-History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake. From the playfield the boys raised a shout. A whirring whistle: goal. What if that nightmare gave you a back kick? -The ways of the Creator are not our ways, Mr Deasy said. All history moves towards one great goal, the manifestation of God. Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying: -That is God. Hooray! Ay! Whirrwhee! -What? Mr Deasy asked. -A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.

For that are you pining, the bark of their applause?

Across the sands of all the world, followed by the sun’s flaming sword, to the west, trekking to evening lands.

Our souls, shame-wounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more.

Somewhere in the east: early morning: set off at dawn, travel round in front of the sun, steal a day’s march on him. Keep it up for ever never grow a day old technically.

-Thank you, sir. Another time. A speck of eager fire from foxeyes thanked him. He withdrew his gaze after an instant. No: better not: another time.

To smell the gentle smoke of tea, fume of the pan, sizzling butter. Be near her ample bedwarmed flesh. Yes, yes. Quick warm sunlight came running from Berkeley Road, swiftly, in slim sandals, along the brightening footpath. Runs, she runs to meet me, a girl with gold hair on the wind.

James Joyce –Ulysses

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Ryan McCarl
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