James Joyce Zitate

seite 7

„Liebe liebt es, Liebe zu lieben.“

„Morgen werde ich das sein, was ich heute baue. Heute bin ich das, was ich gestern gebaut habe.“

„Um zu lernen, muss man demütig sein. Aber das Leben ist der große Lehrer.“

„Der längste Umweg ist der kürzeste nach Hause.“

„Ich kann keine Zeit zurückbringen. Als würde man Wasser in der Hand halten.“

„Das Ziel des Künstlers ist die Erschaffung des Schönen. Was das Schöne ist, ist eine andere Frage.“

„Versteht es niemand?“

„Schließe deine Augen und sieh.“

„Das Leben ist zu kurz, um ein schlechtes Buch zu lesen.“

„… meine Seele ist in Triest.“

„Schreib es, verdammt, schreib es! Wofür bist du noch gut?“

„Sie können immer noch sterben, wenn die Sonne scheint.“

„Sie lebten und lachten und liebten und gingen.“

“She dealt with moral problems the way a cleaver deals with meat: and in this case she had made up her mind.”

“The pity is the public will demand and find a moral in my book — or worse they may take it in some more serious way, and on the honor of a gentleman, there is not one single serious line in it.”

“Quoint a quincidence! O. K. Omnius Kollidimus. As Ollover Krumwall sayed when he slepped ueber his grannyamother. Kangaroose feathers. Who in the name of thunder'd ever belevin you were that bolt?”

“I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book.”

“Your lean jaws grin with. Lash
Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.”

“If I gave it all up immediately, I'd lose my immortality. 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.”

“How soft, how sad his voice is ever calling,
Ever unanswered, and the dark rain falling”

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

“To say that a great genius is half-mad, while recognizing his artistic prowess, is worth as much as saying that he was rheumatic, or that he suffered from diabetes. Madness, in fact, is a medical expression to which a balanced critic should pay no more heed than he would to the accusation of heresy brought by the theologian, or to the accusation of immorality brought by the public prosecutor.”

“Does nobody understand?”