James Joyce
James Joyce
James Augustine Aloysius Joycewas an Irish novelist and poet. He contributed to the modernist avant-garde, and is regarded as one of the most influential and important authors of the twentieth century...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth2 February 1882
CityRathgar, Ireland
CountryIreland
husband small-numbers office
She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed: and though she knew the small number of his talents she appreciated his abstract value as a male.
children play desire
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.
real echoes world
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.
autumn break-off weather
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.
clouds treasure phrases
He drew forth a phrase from his treasure and spoke it softly to himself: A day of dappled seaborne clouds.
mother water tea
When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.
eye heaven tears
His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.
shining darkness brightness
[...] a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend.
heart sick chaos
He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.
littles understood
Have read little and understood less.
thinking ideas jackasses
Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.
life distance past
He lived at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself containing a subject in the third person and a verb in the past tense.
catastrophe
I'll tickle his catastrophe.
running confused wire
I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.