Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 17, 2025
Um, Cranly answered, holding out what remained of the half chewed fig and jerking it towards the squat student's mouth in sign that he should eat. The squat student did not eat it but, indulging his special humour, said gravely, still tittering and prodding his phrase with his umbrella: Do you intend that...?
A medical student, an oarsman, a tenor, an amateur actor, a shouting politician, a small landlord, a small investor, a drinker, a good fellow, a story-teller, somebody's secretary, something in a distillery, a tax-gatherer, a bankrupt and at present a praiser of his own past. Cranly laughed, tightening his grip on Stephen's arm, and said: The distillery is damn good.
Temple bent again across Cranly, as they were passing through the doorway, and said in a swift whisper: Do you know that he is a married man? he was a married man before they converted him. He has a wife and children somewhere. By hell, I think that's the queerest notion I ever heard! Eh? His whisper trailed off into sly cackling laughter.
What you said, is it? Cranly asked. Yes, I remember it. To discover the mode of life or of art whereby your spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom. Stephen raised his hat in acknowledgement. Freedom! Cranly repeated. But you are not free enough yet to commit a sacrilege. Tell me would you rob? I would beg first, Stephen said. And if you got nothing, would you rob?
About religion? Yes, Stephen answered. After a pause Cranly asked: What age is your mother? Not old, Stephen said. She wishes me to make my easter duty. And will you? I will not, Stephen said. Why not? Cranly said. I will not serve, answered Stephen. That remark was made before, Cranly said calmly. It is made behind now, said Stephen hotly.
I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use silence, exile, and cunning. Cranly seized his arm and steered him round so as to lead him back towards Leeson Park.
Sure, you might as well be talking, do you know, to a flaming chamber-pot as talking to Temple. Go home, Temple. For God's sake, go home. I don't care a damn about you, Cranly, answered Temple, moving out of reach of the uplifted stave and pointing at Stephen. He's the only man I see in this institution that has an individual mind. Institution! Individual! cried Cranly.
Cranly turned his pale face to Stephen and said blandly and bitterly: PER PAX UNIVERSALIS. Stephen pointed to the Tsar's photograph and said: He has the face of a besotted Christ. The scorn and anger in his voice brought Cranly's eyes back from a calm survey of the walls of the hall. Are you annoyed? he asked. No, answered Stephen. Are you in bad humour? No.
He thinks I'm an imbecile, Temple explained to Stephen, because I'm a believer in the power of mind. Cranly linked his arms into those of Stephen and his admirer and said: NOS AD MANUM BALLUM JOCABIMUS. Stephen, in the act of being led away, caught sight of MacCann's flushed blunt-featured face. My signature is of no account, he said politely. You are right to go your way. Leave me to go mine.
Your mother must have gone through a good deal of suffering, he said then. Would you not try to save her from suffering more even if... or would you? If I could, Stephen said, that would cost me very little. Then do so, Cranly said. Do as she wishes you to do. What is it for you? You disbelieve in it. It is a form: nothing else. And you will set her mind at rest.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking