My body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires. - James Joyce

A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole Life to reading my works.