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Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.

James Joyce

And yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.
JAMES JOYCE

Fools Herself Name
People could put up with being bitten by a wolf but what properly riled them was a bite from a sheep.
JAMES JOYCE

Hypocrite People
Beware the horns of a bull, the heels of the horse, and the smile of an Englishman.
JAMES JOYCE

Animal Smile
Men are governed by lines of intellect – women: by curves of emotion.
JAMES JOYCE

Curves Emotion Government Intellectual Men
Let my country die for me.
JAMES JOYCE

Country Death Myself One Liner
One great part of every human existence is passed in a state which cannot be rendered sensible by the use of wideawake language, cutanddry grammar and goahead plot.
JAMES JOYCE

Existence Human Language Oneself
The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.
JAMES JOYCE

Heaven Science Stars
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.
JAMES JOYCE

Art Life Spring
A woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out.
JAMES JOYCE

Charm Lose Make Up Woman
I care not if I live but a day and a night, so long as my deeds live after me.
JAMES JOYCE

Care Live Night
Your battles inspired me – not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.
JAMES JOYCE

Battle Inspirational Mindset
I am proud to be an emotionalist.
JAMES JOYCE

Emotion Instagram Captions Proud
Life is too short to read a bad book.
JAMES JOYCE

Book Life Reading
I’ve put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that’s the only way of insuring one’s immortality.
JAMES JOYCE

Argument Forever Way Writing
All fiction is autobiographical fantasy.
JAMES JOYCE

Fantasy Fiction
His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
JAMES JOYCE

Heart Love Romantic

Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.

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Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.

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