Quotes By James Joyce

You forget that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence: and the kingdom of heaven is like a woman.

If Ireland is to become a new Ireland she must first become European.

Nations have their ego, just like individuals.

Irresponsibility is part of the pleasure of all art; it is the part the schools cannot recognize.

Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.

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.

My mouth is full of decayed teeth and my soul of decayed ambitions.

Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality.

Christopher Columbus, as everyone knows, is honored by posterity because he was the last to discover America.

Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.

My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.

Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.

A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.

Love between man and man is impossible because there must not be sexual intercourse and friendship between man and woman is impossible because there must be sexual intercourse.

When I die Dublin will be written in my heart.

He found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible.

The actions of men are the best interpreters of their thoughts.

Men are governed by lines of intellect - women: by curves of emotion.

A nation is the same people living in the same place.

Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.

Satan, really, is the romantic youth of Jesus re-appearing for a moment.

I fear those big words which make us so unhappy.

Ireland sober is Ireland stiff.

Mistakes are the portals of discovery.

Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.

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.

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

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

Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.

A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.