Though their life was modest, they believed in eating well.
Love, yes. Word known to all men.
An Irishman needs three things : silence, cunnning, and exile.
History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned: ----Introibo ad altare Dei.