James Joyce, A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man Quotes
He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.
The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
To discover the mode of life or of art whereby my spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom.
He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.
God spoke to you by so many voices but you would not hear.
By thinking of things you could understand them.
What was after the universe?Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began?