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Quote by James Joyce

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Finnegans Wake

Finnegans Wake is a seminal work of modernist literature, written by James Joyce. The novel is renowned for its intricate and abstract narrative, which incorporates a wide range of literary techniques and references. It is considered one of the most challenging works in the English language, with its dense prose and unconventional grammar often leaving readers puzzled. The story is set in Dublin and follows the life of the character HCE, though the narrative is fragmented and non-linear, making it difficult to discern a clear plot. The novel is often praised for its linguistic inventiveness and its exploration of themes such as time, memory, and the human condition. more

Author

James Joyce
James Joyce

James Joyce, born on February 2, 1882, and died on January 13, 1941, was an Irish novelist and one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. Known for his unique narrative techniques and profound psychological insights, Joyce is celebrated for his contributions to modernist literature. His most famous work is 'Ulysses', which is considered one of the greatest literary works of the 20th century. Other notable works include 'Dubliners' and 'Finnegans Wake'. more

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“Being a King did not interest him because the heads of Kings all too often found their way to spikes on castle walls when things went wrong. But the advisors to Kings . . . the spinners in the shadows . . . such people usually melted away like evening shadows at dawning as soon as the headsman’s axe started to fall. Flagg was a sickness, a fever looking for a cool brow to heat up. He hooded his actions just as he hooded his face. And when the great trouble came—as it always did after a span of years—Flagg always disappeared like shadows at dawn. Later, when the carnage was over and the fever had passed, when the rebuilding was complete and there was again something worth destroying, Flagg would appear once more.”

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“Your daughter is delightful!" Sejanus was saying to Aelia. I gripped the edge of the bench and bit my tongue as he spoke. "She is a living testament to the good looks that seem to follow the gens Aelia." Aelia smiled. "Cousin, you flatter me." Sejanus had set the tone for the evening with the clear slight against the Gavia clan. "It's only a shame I share the name through adoption- not blood- or who knows how much more attractive I might have been!" Nearby guests laughed at the joke but to me it seemed the true intent was to point out that Apicius had, at least at one time, found him attractive. Sejanus looked directly at Apicius directly as he spoke, a smile on his face. Apicius gave away nothing. He waved a boy over with a tray. "Have you tried the fried hare livers, Sejanus?" Apicata jumped up and down and smiled at her father. "May I? May I?" Her father smiled. Apicata could always melt his heart. "Only one and don't share with Perseus!" The serving boy lowered the tray so she could reach for the liver but not so low that the jumping puppy could steal treats for himself. She snatched a morsel and popped it into her mouth. I knew what she tasted, a sublime mixture of textures, the crispy breaded exterior and the smooth, sumptuous richness of the liver itself. The combination is unexpected. When I first introduced the recipe, it immediately became a family favorite. Apicata turned to Sejanus. She did not appear to recognize him from the market. "Oh, you must try! These are my favorite!" "If you say so, I must try!" Sejanus reached for the tray. He took a bite of the liver and surprise registered in his eyes. Sejanus reached for another liver. "Where on earth did you find your cook?" "Baiae." Aelia reached for her own sample. "Thrasius's cooking is always exceptional. Wait until you try the hyacinth bulbs!" "Hyacinth bulbs are one of my favorites." Sejanus ran his fingers affectionately through Apicata's hair as he talked. I stared, wondering what his intentions were. My right eye began to twitch. Apicius nodded at Passia to come forward and collect Apicata and her puppy. The girl went begrudgingly and only after Sejanus had planted a kiss on her forehead and promised he would visit again soon.”

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“You really are sort of a basic person, aren’t you, except for that blue stratospheric veneer of crust you wrap yourself around. I was going to ask you, with your usual never-ending broadside complaints of lack and wearisome bushwa ‘nonsensical’ humdrum excuses, just exactly what kind of person are you? You must have had it easy growing up. Now, as per your habit, tonight when you hit the hay, percle on this: There are 7even basic types of people—: 1. People who make things happen. 2. People who talk about making things happen. 3. People who start to make things happen but never finish. 4. People who watch things happen. 5. People who wonder what just happened. 6. People who don’t have the faintest idea that anything happened. 7. People who need a stout “clue-by-four” of hickory smacked up alongside their head to make them happen. — As for an eighth— —Which one are you? Puzȥle it out. . . . -- Thomas Kannon, Instructor to Brickley. The Lady and the Samurai”

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“Undoubtedly, you are overwrought from re-wroughting hand-wrought iron out right. But I think in time you will iron things out for yourself. Stay holstered and strapped to your side. It is said, ‘when genius matures it goes into hixibn’–“hiding.” You will know of this wisdom one day. --Thomas Kannon Sword Master, The Lady and the Samurai”

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“As it would crop up so often during the outpouring of one of Christina’s convulsiving tirades of out-of-touch cross-examining razor manias in the Ockham style school of thought, someone would be damn fool enough to interject a thought disrupting her. Whereupon she would turn her head and politely respond, “Do you mind, I’m not through being evil yet,” and logicalmly carry on with giving them generous shafty portions of her mind pieces, unhasped and undisturbed by extenuating circumstances. She had heard in old Europe certain warrior tribes weaned their children by presenting them with food on the tip of a sword, a good custom she continued in spirit. --Christina Brickley, The Lady and the Samurai”

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“He was a terrible, evil man, and most likely mad to boot. She knew that. And yet. As if he could hear her thoughts, his head turned and his eyes met hers. She should've ducked before he could see her. That would've been the sensible thing to do- the smart thing to do. Instead she lifted her chin and stared back as if she were equal to a duke. Without acknowledging the gentleman still talking to him, the duke pivoted and walked toward her. Through that crowded ballroom, as if nothing stood between him and her. And all those people parted as if he were a ship cleaving the waves. Why shouldn't they? He was the Duke of Montgomery. Nothing stood in his way. He made sure of that. He made her side and took her hand and simply said, "Come.”

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