James Joyce: Dublin Will Be Written in My Heart

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, readers!

In honor of this special day, and half of my heritage, I wanted to share an excerpt from one of the most brilliant Irish writers I’ve discovered in my time. And, if at all possible, encourage you to read Ulysses in your own.

Until then, everyone! Have a wonderful day celebrating and an even better start to the spring season ahead.

“His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness shining in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with his augur’s rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, unbeheld, in violet nigh walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. I throw this ended shadow from me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Endless, would it be mine, form of my form? Who watches me here? Who ever anywhere will read these written words?”

-James Joyce, Ulysses

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