James Joyce Quotes - Page 4

No pen, no ink, no table, no room, no time, no quiet, no inclination.

Civilization may be said indeed to be the creation of its outlaws.

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.

The pleasures of love lasts but a fleeting but the pledges of life outlusts a lieftime.

[A writer is] a priest of eternal imagination, transmuting the daily bread of experience into the radiant body of everliving life.

Interpretations of interpretations interpreted.

I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women.

For myself, I always write about Dublin, because if I can get to the heart of Dublin I can get to the heart of all the cities of the world. In the particular is contained the universal.

Tenors get women by the score.

And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.

There's no police like Holmes.

Sentimentality is unearned emotion.

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo

The philosophic mind inclines always to an elaborate life--the life of Goethe or of Leonardo da Vinci; but the life of the poet isintense--the life of Blake or of Dante--taking into its centre the life that surrounds it and flinging it abroad again amid planetary music.

The incompatibility of aquacity with the erratic originality of genius.

Redheaded women buck like goats.

Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.

and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.

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.

By an epiphany he meant a sudden spiritual manifestation, whether in the vulgarity of speech or of gesture or memorable phrase of the mind itself. He believed it was for the man of letters to record these epiphanies with extreme care (saving them for later use, that is), seeing that they themselves are the most delicate and evanescent of moments.

The only decent people I ever saw at the racecourse were horses.

Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.

Nations have their ego, just like individuals.