We were always loyal to lost causes...Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. ~ Professor MacHugh

Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying: — That is God. Hooray! Ay! Whrrwhee! — What? Mr Deasy asked. — A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.

People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.

There's no police like Holmes.

I care not if I live but a day and a night, so long as my deeds live after me.

I could call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child's play, ugly monotonous child's play.

Places remember events.