#153 Try the house opposite. Wait, I wanted to. I haven’t yet.

by upright | Jan 25, 2017 | Ulysses | 0 comments

Poor Dignam! His last lie on the earth in his box. When you think of them all it does seem a waste of wood. All gnawed through. They could invent a handsome bier with a kind of panel sliding, let it down that way. Ay but they might object to be buried out of another...

#152 The gravediggers bore the coffin and set its nose on the brink, looping the bands round it.

by upright | Jan 18, 2017 | Ulysses | 0 comments

I daresay the soil would be quite fat with corpsemanure, bones, flesh, nails. Charnelhouses. Dreadful. Turning green and pink decomposing. Rot quick in damp earth. The lean old ones tougher. Then a kind of a tallowy kind of a cheesy. Then begin to get black, black...

#151 Love among the tombstones. Romeo. Spice of pleasure. In the midst of death we are in life.

by upright | Jan 11, 2017 | Ulysses | 0 comments

Mr Bloom admired the caretaker’s prosperous bulk. All want to be on good terms with him. Decent fellow, John O’Connell, real good sort. Keys: like Keyes’s ad: no fear of anyone getting out. No passout checks. Habeas corpus. I must see about that ad...

#150 Not a bloody bit like the man, says he. That’s not Mulcahy, says he, whoever done it.

by upright | Jan 4, 2017 | Ulysses | 0 comments

John Henry Menton’s large eyes stared ahead. The barrow turned into a side lane. A portly man, ambushed among the grasses, raised his hat in homage. The gravediggers touched their caps. —John O’Connell, Mr Power said pleased. He never forgets a friend. Mr...

#149 Then every fellow mousing around for his liver and his lights and the rest of his traps.

by upright | Dec 28, 2016 | Ulysses | 0 comments

—The reverend gentleman read the service too quickly, don’t you think? Mr Kernan said with reproof. Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the quick bloodshot eyes. Secret eyes, secretsearching. Mason, I think: not sure. Beside him again. We are the last. In the...

#148 The priest took a stick with a knob at the end of it out of the boy’s bucket and shook it over the coffin.

by upright | Dec 17, 2016 | Ulysses | 0 comments

My kneecap is hurting me. Ow. That’s better. The priest took a stick with a knob at the end of it out of the boy’s bucket and shook it over the coffin. Then he walked to the other end and shook it again. Then he came back and put it back in the bucket. As...