James Joyce was an Irish novelist, short story writer, and poet, born on Feb. 2 1882. He also had a “Dirty Little Fuckbird” to whom he would write borderline soft-core porn, or love letters if you prefer that term. You should seriously Google that and read a few letters when you have the time. Also, did you know that he was only 9 years old when his first work was published?
He was also the author of the short story collection Dubliners (1914) and the novels A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), Ulysses (1922), and Finnegans Wake (1939). His collections of poetry include Chamber Music (1907) and Pomes Penyeach (1927).
Ernest Hemingway was his favorite drinking buddy as well as his bodyguard.
Here are a few quotes by James Joyce
- “They lived and laughed and loved and left.”― James Joyce, Finnegans Wake
2. “Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?” ― James Joyce, The Dead
3. “History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”
― James Joyce, Ulysses
4. “His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.”
― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
5. “Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.” ― James Joyce, Ulysses
6. “Her antiquity in preceding and surviving succeeding tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all her phases, rising and setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning: the forced invariability of her aspect: her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her potency over effluent and refluent waters: her power to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to incite to and aid delinquency: the tranquil inscrutability of her visage: the terribility of her isolated dominant resplendent propinquity: her omens of tempest and of calm: the stimulation of her light, her motion and her presence: the admonition of her craters, her arid seas, her silence: her splendour, when visible: her attraction, when invisible.”
― James Joyce, Ulysses
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