James Joyce

His face was very truculent, grey and massive, with black cavernous nostrils and circled by a scanty white fur.

'I'd like nothing better this minute,' said Mr Browne stoutly, 'than a rattling fine walk in the country or a fast drive with a good spanking goer between the shafts.'

He longed to execrate aloud, to bring his fist down on something violently.

Eight years before he had seen his friend off at the North Wall and wished him godspeed.

Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on his way home; she heard his footsteps clacking along the concrete pavement and afterwards crunching on the cinder path before the new red houses.

One humiliation had succeeded another—the false smiles of the market sellers, the curvetings and oglings of the barmaids with whom his father flirted, the compliments and encouraging words of his father's friends.

The glories of Mary held his soul captive : spikenard and myrrh and frankincense, symbolising the preciousness of God's gifts to her soul, rich garments, symbolising her royal lineage, her emblems, the lateflowering plant and lateblossoming tree, symbolising the agelong gradual growth of her cultus among men.

And Old Barrett has a new way of twisting the note so that you can't open it and fold it again to see how many ferulæ you are to get.

The raw morning air whetted his resolute piety; and often as he knelt among the few worshippers at the side-altar, following with his interleaved prayer-book the murmur of the priest, he glanced up for an instant towards the vested figure standing in the gloom between the two candles, which were the old and the new testaments, and imagined that he was kneeling at mass in the catacombs.

What advantages were possessed by an occupied, as distinct from an unoccupied bed? The removal of nocturnal solitude, the superior quality of human (mature female) to inhuman (hotwaterjar) calefaction.

Arius, warring his life long upon the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father, and Valentine, spurning Christ’s terrene body, and the subtle African heresiarch Sabellius who held that the Father was Himself His own Son.

You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you, Buck Mulligan said. I’m hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused.

Ireland, they say, has the honour of being the only country which never persecuted the jews. Do you know that? No. And do you know why? He frowned sternly on the bright air. —Why, sir? Stephen asked, beginning to smile. —Because she never let them in, Mr Deasy said solemnly.

Thou art, I vow, the remarkablest progenitor bar none in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle.

Let the lewd with faith and fervour worship. With will will we withstand, withsay.

She said that he had a fair sweet death through God His goodness with mass-priest to be shriven, holy housel and sick men’s oil to his limbs.

[…] York and Savoy, and trays of onions, pearls of the earth, and pumets of mushrooms and custard marrows and fat vetches and bere and rape and red green yellow brown russet sweet big bitter ripe pomellated apples and chips of strawberries and sieves of gooseberries, pulpy and pelurious, and strawberries fit for princes and raspberries from their canes.

the hebdomadary symposium of incoordinately abstract, perfervidly concrete mercantile coexreligionist excompatriots

a volume of peccaminous pornographical tendency entitled Sweets of Sin.

Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, trinkettoes!”