Citati iz knjige „Ulysses“ autora James Joyce

love’s bitter mystery
—Look at the sea. What does it care about offences?
Ulysses’ is the Latin equivalent of the Greek ‘Odysseus’, the name of the wily warrior celebrated by Homer
I am the boy
That can enjoy
Invisibility.
Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants, willing to be dethroned
To Caesar what is Caesar's, to God what is God's.
Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been knifed to death. They are not to be thought away. Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave, weaver of the wind.
Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been knifed to death. They are not to be thought away. Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? Weave, weaver of the wind.
I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and sensations
Above the crossblind of the Ormond hotel, gold by bronze, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head watched and admired.
Bad times those were. Well, well. Over and done with. Great topers too. Fourbottle men.

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—Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey.

—He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.
Memories beset his brooding brain. Her glass of water from the kitchen
Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leave his house today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time must come to, ineluctably.
Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, another image?
Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to all men. Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus …

Не переведено в русском переводе

The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant quantity, John Eglinton detecte
Said that.
—If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over the hell of time of King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look to see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, prince of Tyre?
dreamy cloudy gull
Waves o'er the waters dull.
--It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked looking-glass of a servant.
Stephen Dedalus stepped up, followed him wearily halfway and sat down on the edge of the gunrest, watching him still as he propped his mirror on the parapet, dipped the brush in the bowl and lathered cheeks and neck.
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