Luz dorada sobr el mar, sobre arena, sobre cantizales. El sol está ahí, los gráciles árboles, las casas limón.
James JoyceJesus Christ, with His divine understanding of every understanding of our human nature, understood that not all men were called to the religious life, that by far the vast majority were forced to live in the world, and, to a certain extent, for the world.
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No serás el dueño de otros ni tampoco su esclavo.
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Enigmas hastiados de su tiranía: tiranos, dispuestos a ser destronados,
James JoyceDear Mister Germ’s Choice,
in gutter dispear I am taking my pen toilet you know that, being Leyde up in bad with the prewailent distemper (I opened the window and in flew Enza), I have been reeding one half ter one other the numboars of “transition” in witch are printed the severeall instorments of your “Work in Progress”.
You must not stink I am attempting to ridicul (de sac!) you or to be smart, but I am so disturd by my inhumility to onthorstand most of the impslocations constrained in your work that (although I am by nominals dump and in fact I consider myself not brilliantly ejewcatered but still of above Averroëge men’s tality and having maid the most of the oporto unities I kismet) I am writing you, dear mysterre Shame’s Voice, to let you no how bed I feeloxerab out it all.
I am überzeugt that the labour involved in the compostition of your work must be almost supper humane and that so much travail from a man of your intellacked must ryeseult in somethink very signicophant. I would only like to know have I been so strichnine by my illnest white wresting under my warm Coverlyette that I am as they say in my neightive land “out of the mind gone out” and unable to combprehen that which is clear or is there really in your work some ass pecked which is Uncle Lear?
Please froggive my t’Emeritus and any inconvince that may have been caused by this litter.
Yours veri tass
Vladimir Dixon
Tag: our-exagmination
لماذا يخيل إليّ أن كل كلمة أحاول التعبير بها عن شعوري تقصر عن تحقيق هذا الغرض، وتأتي باردة جافة لا معنى لها؟ هل السبب أنه ما من كلمة في اللغة تبلغ رقتها أن تصلح اسمًا لك؟
James JoyceThought and plot are not so important as some would make them out to be. The object of any work of art is the transference of emotion; talent is the gift of conveying that emotion
James JoyceThe 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.
James JoyceTag: books humour ulysses public pity moral demand serious
A duodene of bird notes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hand. Brightly the keys, all twinkling, linked, all harpsichording, called to a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of youth, of love's leave-taking, life's, love's morn.
James JoyceShe said he just looked as if he was asleep, he looked that peaceful and resigned. No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.
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