My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out.

Time is, time was, but time shall be no more.

I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world.

I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.

I fear those big words, Stephen said, which make us so unhappy.

Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish.