I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day.

The light music of whiskey falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

When I die Dublin will be written on my heart.

It was cold autumn weather, but in spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse; every bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow.

The movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the hillside.

What? Corpus. Body. Corpse. Good idea the Latin. Stupifies them first. Hospice for the dying. They don't seem to chew it; only swallow it down.

I am damnably sick of Italy, Italian and Italians, outrageously, illogically sick.... I hate to think that Italians ever did anything in the way of art.... What did they do but illustrate a page or so of the New Testament! They themselves think they have a monopoly in the line. I am dead tired of their bello and bellezza.