Here comes the noble Dedalus cried a high throaty voice
They walked southward in silence
I will take the risk, said Stephen
Hence Cranley’s despair of soul: the child of exhausted loins
Soul free and fancy free.
I am glad he escaped, Stephen had said with a laugh
Go on Stevie, I have a hard head, you tell me
Dedalus, you’re an anti-social being wrapped up for yourself
The ivy whines upon the wall
And what about ivory ivy?
It might clear up, sir
All had died: all had been judged
Sin, remember, is a twofold enormity
The preacher began to speak in a quiet friendly tone
I have to leave a message down in George’s Street