by upright | Sep 15, 2018 | Ulysses |
K.M.R.I.A. —He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried loudly over his shoulder. Any time he likes, tell him. While Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he strode on jerkily.
by upright | Sep 9, 2018 | Ulysses |
K.M.A. —Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing out his arm for emphasis. Tell him that straight from the stable. A bit nervy. Look out for squalls. All off for a drink. Arm in arm. Lenehan’s yachting cap on the cadge beyond. Usual blarney....
by upright | Aug 31, 2018 | Ulysses |
INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR —Just this ad, Mr Bloom said, pushing through towards the steps, puffing, and taking the cutting from his pocket. I spoke with Mr Keyes just now. He’ll give a renewal for two months, he says. After he’ll see. But he wants a par to call...
by upright | Aug 8, 2018 | Dubliners |
When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into Ringsend. The day had grown sultry, and in the windows of the grocers’ shops musty biscuits lay bleaching. We bought some biscuits and chocolate which we ate sedulously as we wandered through the squalid streets...
by upright | Aug 8, 2018 | Ulysses |
RETURN OF BLOOM —Yes, he said. I see them. Mr Bloom, breathless, caught in a whirl of wild newsboys near the offices of the Irish Catholic and Dublin Penny Journal, called: —Mr Crawford! A moment! —Telegraph! Racing special! —What is it? Myles Crawford said, falling...
