You Behold In Me, Stephen Said With

The Irish Are People Who Will Never Have Leaders, For At The Great Moment They Always Desert Them. They Have Produced One Skeleton--parnell--never A Man.

You Behold In Me, Stephen Said With Grim Displeasure, A Horrible Example Of Free Thought.

He Asked Himself What Is A Woman Standing On The Stairs In The Shadow, Listening To Distant Music, A Symbol Of. If He Were A Painter He Would Paint Her In That Attitude. Her Blue Felt Hat Would Show Off The Bronze Of Her Hair Against The Darkness And The Dark Panels Of Her Skirt Would Show Off The Light Ones. Distant Music He Would Call The Picture If He Were A Painter.

What Kind Of Liberation Would That Be To Forsake An Absurdity Which Is Logical And Coherent And To Embrace One Which Is Illogical And Incoherent?

Lord, Heap Miseries Upon Us Yet Entwine Our Arts With Laughters Low.