詹姆斯·喬伊斯
后現(xiàn)代文學(xué)的奠基者之一
Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring.
I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use—silence, exile, and cunning.
我要告訴你我要做什么，以及我不做什么。我不會再為我不再相信的東西服務(wù)，無論它自稱是我的家、我的祖國還是我的教會。我要盡力通過某種生活或藝術(shù)的方式，自由而完整地表達自己，用我允許自己使用的唯一武器來捍衛(wèi)自己——沉默、流亡和狡黠。
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.
A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
Every life is in 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.
He tried to weigh his soul to see if it was a poet's soul.
他試圖稱量自己的靈魂，看看它是否是詩人的靈魂。
Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.
把握現(xiàn)在，把握此地，所有未來都通過此地沖入過去。
My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.
我的話在她心中：冰冷的拋光石頭沉入沼澤。
When I die Dublin will be written in my heart.
當(dāng)我死去時，都柏林將寫在我的心上。
All Moanday, Tearday, Wailsday, Thumpsday, Frightday, Shatterday.
所有星期一、淚日、哀號日、重擊日、恐懼日、破碎日。
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