Portrait from Wikimedia Commons. Credit: James_Joyce_by_Alex_Ehrenzweig,_1915_restored.jpg: *James_Joyce_by_Alex_Ehrenzweig,_1915.jpg: Alex Ehrenzweig derivative work: RedAppleJack (talk) derivative work: Missionary (talk). Used under Public domain / CC0. Processed and styled by Quotewise.
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Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable lonliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own.
Art is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an aesthetic end.
History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
