Zitate von James Joyce
Der Erfinder der Notlüge liebte den Frieden mehr als die Wahrheit.
Informationen über James Joyce
Schriftsteller, wurde "Ulysses" weltberühmt, "Dubliner Novellen", "Finnegans Wake" (Irland, 1882 - 1941).
James Joyce · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
James Joyce wäre heute 142 Jahre, 8 Monate, 7 Tage oder 52.114 Tage alt.
Geboren am 02.02.1882 in Rathgar
Gestorben am 13.01.1941 in Zürich
Sternzeichen: ♒ Wassermann
Unbekannt
Weitere 66 Zitate von James Joyce
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Der Erfinder der Notlüge liebte den Frieden mehr als die Wahrheit.
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Gott ist ein Schrei auf der Straße.
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Ich hoffe, du trinkst regelmäßig von dem Kakao und ich hoffe, daß dein kleiner Körper oder wenigstens gewisse Teile von ihm ein wenig voller werden. Ich muß gerade lachen, weil ich mir deine kleinen Mädchenbrüste vorstelle.
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Irland ist eine alte Sau, die ihre Ferkel frißt.
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Parfüm ist Erfahrung: "Kenne ihren Geruch unter Tausenden. Auch das Badewasser. Erinnert mich an Erdbeeren und Schlagsahne".
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A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
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All moanday, tearsday, wailsday, thumpsday, frightday, shatterday till the fear of the Law.
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And they beheld Him, even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend to the glory of the brightness at an angle of forty-five degrees over Donohoe's in Little Green Street like a shot off a shovel.
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But it's no use, says he.Force, hatred, history, all that. That's not life for men and women, insult and hatred. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is really life.
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By an epiphany he meant a sudden spiritual manifestation, whether in vulgarity of speech or of gesture or in a memorable phase of the mind itself. He believed that it was for the man of letters to recover these epiphanies with extreme care, seeing that they themselves are the most delicate and evanescent of moments.
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Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job.
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God is a shout in the street.
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Greater love than this, he said, no man hath that a man lay down his wife for his friend. Go thou and do likewise. Thus, or words to that effect, saith Zarathustra, sometime regius professor of French letters to the university of Oxtail.
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He . . . saw the dark tangled curls of his bush floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower.
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He kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
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He was outcast from life's feast.
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His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
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History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
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How small it's all.
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I fear those big words, Stephen said, which make us so unhappy.