Quotation from: Ulysses

Written by: James Joyce

His gaze brooded on his broadtoed boots, a buck's castoffs,
NEBENEINANDER. He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's
foot had nested warm. The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I
dislove. But you were delighted when Esther Osvalt's shoe went on you:
girl I knew in Paris. TIENS, QUEL PETIT PIED! Staunch friend, a brother
soul: Wilde's love that dare not speak its name. His arm: Cranly's arm. He
now will leave me. And the blame? As I am. As I am. All or not at all.