Quotation from: Ulysses

Written by: James Joyce


Ah.


His hand fell to his side again.


Never know anything about it. Waste of time. Gasballs spinning
about, crossing each other, passing. Same old dingdong always. Gas: then
solid: then world: then cold: then dead shell drifting around, frozen
rock, like that pineapple rock. The moon. Must be a new moon out, she
said. I believe there is.


He went on by la maison Claire.

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