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The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

James Joyce

Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
JAMES JOYCE

Death Life Philosophy True
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.
JAMES JOYCE

Art Life Spring
The pleasures of love lasts but a fleeting but the pledges of life outlusts a lifetime.
JAMES JOYCE

Life Love
They lived and laughed and loved and left.
JAMES JOYCE

Laughter Life Love Thinking
Wipe your glasses with what you know.
JAMES JOYCE

Glasses Wipe Yourself
He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible.
JAMES JOYCE

Himself Possible World
What’s in a name? That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name that we are told is ours.
JAMES JOYCE

Ourselves Writing
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
God made food; the devil the cooks.
JAMES JOYCE

Devil Food God Human
You can still die when the sun is shining.
JAMES JOYCE

Death Shine Sun Yourself
His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.
JAMES JOYCE

Heart Love Romantic
All fiction is autobiographical fantasy.
JAMES JOYCE

Fantasy Fiction
And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.
JAMES JOYCE

Eyes Heart Love Mad
History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
JAMES JOYCE

Dream History Truth
I desire to press in my arms the loveliness which has not yet come into the world.
JAMES JOYCE

Desire Love World
Shut your eyes and see.
JAMES JOYCE

Eyes One Liner See

The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

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The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

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