When a man is born...there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets.

I done me best when I was let. Thinking always if I go all goes. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is there one who understands me? One in a thousand of years of the nights? All me life I have been lived among them but now they are becoming lothed to me. And I am lothing their little warm tricks. And lothing their mean cosy turns. And all the greedy gushes out through their small souls. And all the lazy leaks down over their brash bodies. How small it's all! And me letting on to meself always. And lilting on all the time.

As you are now so once were we.

White wine is like electricity. Red wine looks and tastes like a liquified beefsteak.

There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin.

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

Wipe your glosses with what you know.