Quotation from: Ulysses

Written by: James Joyce


BLOOM: (HIDES THE CRUBEEN AND TROTTER BEHIND HIS BACK AND, CRESTFALLEN,
FEELS WARM AND COLD FEETMEAT) JA, ICH WEISS, PAPACHI.


RUDOLPH: What you making down this place? Have you no soul? (WITH FEEBLE
VULTURE TALONS HE FEELS THE SILENT FACE OF BLOOM) Are you not my son
Leopold, the grandson of Leopold? Are you not my dear son Leopold who
left the house of his father and left the god of his fathers Abraham and
Jacob?

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Old Dominion University CS Dept
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Created: 2007-2-22T12:35:29Z
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Part of a series of experiments in web preservation under the direction of Michael L. Nelson, Ph.D.