What birds were they? (...) He listened to the cries: like the squeak of mice be- hind the wainscot : a shrill twofold note. But the notes were long and shrill and whirring, unlike the cry of vermin, falling a third or a fourth and trilled as the flying beaks clove the air. Their cry was shrill and clear and fine and falling like threads of silken light unwound from whirring spools.
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday. - James Joyce
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
- James Joyce
Thought is the thought of thought. - James Joyce
Thought is the thought of thought.
As you are now so once were we. - James Joyce
As you are now so once were we.
There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present. - James Joyce
There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.
Shut your eyes and see. - James Joyce
Shut your eyes and see.
People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus. - James Joyce
People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.
Fall if you will, but rise you must. - James Joyce
Fall if you will, but rise you must.
Absence, the highest form of presence. - James Joyce
Absence, the highest form of presence.
As I am. As I am. All or not at all. - James Joyce
As I am. As I am. All or not at all.
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