Grace before Glutton. For what we are, gifs a gross if we are, about to believe.
James JoyceTag: james-joyce finnegan-s-wake
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?
James JoyceTag: inspirational words color colour
Unsheathe your dagger definitions; Horseness is the Whatness of All Horse...
James JoyceThe supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.
James JoyceHave read little and understood less.
James JoyceArt is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an esthetic end.
James JoyceI 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.
James JoyceMy heart is quite calm now. I will go back.
James JoyceTag: ireland james-joyce dublin
When I die, Dublin will be written on my heart.
James JoyceThe heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.
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