Phrase by 'James Joyce'
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Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistOld , Her , Ireland , Sow
The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistGod , Artist , Creation , Behind
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistLove , Family , Mother , Love Is
I fear those big words which make us so unhappy.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistWords , Big , Fear , Unhappy
I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistWill , Way , Busy , Immortality
Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistAlways , Poetry , Sense , Against
My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistWords , Mind , Her , Cold
I think a child should be allowed to take his father's or mother's name at will on coming of age. Paternity is a legal fiction.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistFather , Age , Mother , Legal
Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistMoment , Youth , Romantic , Satan
God spoke to you by so many voices but you would not hear.
Author: James Joyce - Irish NovelistYou , God , Hear , Voices