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StephenDedalus

  1. Lank coils of seaweed hair around me, my heart, my soul. Salt green death. We. Agenbite of inwit. Inwit's agenbite. Misery! Misery! 7:54 AM Jun 16th from web
  2. She is drowning. Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite. All against us. She will drown me with her, eyes and hair. 7:54 AM Jun 16th from web
  3. @DILLYDEDALUS -- Here. It's all right. Mind Maggy doesn't pawn it on you. I suppose all my books are gone. 7:54 AM Jun 16th from web
  4. Show no surprise. Quite natural. 7:53 AM Jun 16th from web
  5. I take the coverless book from her hand. Chardenal's French primer. @DILLYDEDALUS -- What did you buy that for? To learn French? 7:52 AM Jun 16th from web
  6. My eyes they say she has. Do others see me so? Quick, far and daring. Shadow of my mind. 7:52 AM Jun 16th from web
  7. @DILLYDEDALUS -- What have you there? 7:51 AM Jun 16th from web
  8. I told her of Paris. Late lieabed under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck bracelet, Dan Kelly's token. Nebrakada femininum 7:51 AM Jun 16th from web
  9. A Stuart face of nonesuch Charles, lank locks falling at its sides. It glowed as she crouched feeding the fire with broken boots. 7:51 AM Jun 16th from web
  10. @DILLYDEDALUS -- What are you doing? 7:51 AM Jun 16th from web
  11. Dilly's high shoulders and shabby dress. Shut the book quick. Don't let see. 7:50 AM Jun 16th from web
  12. What is this? Thumbed pages: read and read. Who has passed here before me? Who wrote this? 7:50 AM Jun 16th from web
  13. Tattered pages. I might find here one of my pawned schoolprizes. Stephano Dedalo, alumno optimo, palmam ferenti. 7:50 AM Jun 16th from web
  14. In Clohissey's window a faded 1860 print of Heenan boxing Sayers holds my eye. I turn and halt by the slanted bookcart. 7:49 AM Jun 16th from web
  15. I go down Bedford row, the handle of the ash clacking against my shoulderblade. 7:43 AM Jun 16th from web
  16. where they swirl, I. Shatter them, one and both. But stun myself too in the blow. Shatter me you who can. Bawd and butcher were the words. 7:43 AM Jun 16th from web
  17. Throb always without you and the throb always within. Your heart you sing of. I between them. Where? Between two roaring worlds 7:43 AM Jun 16th from web
  18. The whirr of flapping leathern bands and hum of dynamos from the powerhouse urges me to be on. Beingless beings. Stop! 7:43 AM Jun 16th from web
  19. Orient and immortal wheat standing from everlasting to everlasting. 7:42 AM Jun 16th from web
  20. And you who wrest old images from the burial earth? The brainsick words of sophists: Antisthenes. A lore of drugs. 7:42 AM Jun 16th from web