One can love a child, perhaps, more deeply than one can love another adult, but it is rash to assume that the child feels any love in return.

The real power, the power we have to fight for night and day, is not power over things, but over men

History has to move in a certain direction, even if it has to be pushed that way by neurotics.

You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves.

In a town like London there are always plenty of not quite certifiable lunatics walking the streets, and they tend to gravitate towards bookshops, because a bookshop is one of the few places where you can hang about for a long time without spending any money.

When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases - bestial atrocities, iron heel, blood-stained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder - one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy, the appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved

Joyce is a poet and also an elephantine pedant.