The men that is now is only all palaver and what they can get out of you.

I am proud to be an emotionalist.

Alone, what did Bloom feel? The cold of interstellar space, thousands of degrees below freezing point or the absolute zero of Fahrenheit, Centigrade or Réaumur: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn.

In the particular is contained the universal.

Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.

Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.

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.