April 26. I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Last sentence on the last page. Happy birthday to Joe; enjoy this Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man:
April 27. Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.
“How many hours I waste lying in bed thinking about getting up. I see myself get up, go out, move, drink, eat, smile, turn, pay attention, talk, go up, go down. I am absent from that part, yet participating at the same time. A voyeur in all senses, in my actions, non-actions. What a delight it might be actually to get up without thinking, and then when dressed look back and still see myself curled up fast asleep under the blankets.”
Ann Quin | Passages
Leave a Reply