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
love life
Love loves to love love.
life fall snow
His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
hunting mind balance
Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.
civilization may creation
Civilization may be said indeed to be the creation of its outlaws.
Thought is the thought of thought.
writing way arguing
I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.
mistake long eternity
You made me confess the fears that I have. But I will tell you also what I do not fear. I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to leave whatever I have to leave. And I am not afraid to make a mistake, even a great mistake, a lifelong mistake and perhaps as long as eternity too.
squares would-be dull-days
The swift December dusk had come tumbling clownishly after its dull day and, as he stared through the dull square of the window of the schoolroom, he felt his belly crave for its food. He hoped there would be stew for dinner, turnips and carrots and bruised potatoes and fat mutton pieces to be ladled out in thick peppered flourfattened sauce. Stuff it into you, his belly counselled him.
eye voice giving
Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable lonliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own.
friday true-life thursday
Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
giving mind giving-back
Your mind will give back to you exactly what you put into it.
past flow eternal
There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.
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.