Siobhan

“The glow of a late autumn sunset covered the grass plots and walks. It cast a shower of kindly golden dust on the untidy nurses and decrepit old men who drowsed on the benches; it flickered upon all the moving figures - on the children who ran screaming along the gravel paths and on everyone who passed through the gardens.”
― James Joyce, A Little Cloud

“This [Ulysses] is obviously the wave of the future, I'm glad I'm dying of tuberculosis.”
― Katherine Mansfield

“His blood began to murmur in his veins, murmuring like a sinful city summoned from its sleep to hear its doom.”
― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

“Grace before Glutton. For what we are, gifs a gross if we are, about to believe.”
― James Joyce, Finnegans Wake