Unhappy, But Not Unhappy Enough.

All I Know Is What The Words Know, And Dead Things, And That Makes A Handsome Little Sum, With A Beginning And A Middle And An End, As In The Well-built Phrase And The Long Sonata Of The Dead.

What Is That Unforgettable Line?

James Joyce: His Writing Is Not About Something. It Is The Thing Itself.

There Is This To Be Said For Dachsunds Of Such Length And Lowness As Nelly, That It Makes Very Little Difference To Their Appearance Whether They Stand, Sit Or Lie.

How Time Flies When One Has Fun!