To be able to look back upon ones life in satisfaction, is to live twice.

Septimus has been working too hard" - that was all she could say to her own mother. To love makes one solitary, she thought.

Except he'd been wrong about that. There was a monster in the lake. It had grabbed Hassan by the ankles, dragged him to the murky bottom. I was that monster. That was the night I became an insomniac.

Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.

Written By James Joyce

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links