As you are now so once were we. - James Joyce

When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street.

— I mean, said Stephen, that I was not myself as I am now, as I had to become.

Loveward above the glancing oar