The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole Life to reading my works.
James JoyceI will not say nothing. I will defend my church and my religion when it is insulted and spit on.
James JoyceWhat birds were they? (...) He listened to the cries: like the squeak of mice be- hind the wainscot : a shrill twofold note. But the notes were long and shrill and whirring, unlike the cry of vermin, falling a third or a fourth and trilled as the flying beaks clove the air. Their cry was shrill and clear and fine and falling like threads of silken light unwound from whirring spools.
James Joyce