That Ideal Reader Suffering From An Ideal

The Apprehensive Faculty Must Be Scrutinised In Action.

Stately, Plump Buck Mulligan Came From The Stairhead, Bearing A Bowl Of Lather On Which A Mirror And A Razor Lay Crossed. A Yellow Dressinggown, Ungirdled, Was Sustained Gently Behind Him By The Mild Morning Air. He Held The Bowl Aloft And Intoned: ----introibo Ad Altare Dei.

The End He Had Been Born To Serve Yet Did Not See Had Led Him To Escape By An Unseen Path And Now It Beckoned To Him Once More And A New Adventure Was About To Be Opened To Him.

Each Lost Soul Will Be A Hell Unto Itself, The Boundless Fire Raging In Its Very Vitals.

The Supreme Question About A Work Of Art Is Out Of How Deep A Life Does It Spring.