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
dog winter whales
I see the regions of snow and ice, I see the sharp-eyed Samoiede and the Finn, I see the seal-seeker in his boat poising his lance, I see the Siberian on his slight-built sledge drawn by dogs, I see the porpoise-hunters, I see the whale-crews of the south Pacific and the north Atlantic, I see the cliffs, glaciers, torrents, valleys of Switzerland - I mark the long winters and the isolation.
beautiful cry wanted
He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.
stars science fruit
The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.
long bird orbs
It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness...
plot use language
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.
inspirational life running
Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.
mind battle inspired
Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.
soul lovers sin
Our souls, shame-wounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more.
life spiritual mistake
A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
winter air sky
When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street.
shining sun stills
You can still die when the sun is shining.
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
truth history trying
History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
absence form highest
Absence, the highest form of presence.