“You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought.”

“History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.”

“I fear those big words, Stephen said, which make us so unhappy.”

“You suspect, Stephen retorted with a sort of a half laugh, that I may be important because I belong to the fauborgh Saint Patrice called Ireland for short.—I would go a step farther, Mr Bloom insinuated.—But I suspect, Stephen interrupted, that Ireland must be important because it belongs to me.”

“Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying:— That is God.Hooray! Ay! Whrrwhee!— What? Mr Deasy asked.— A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.”

“He turned abruptly his great searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's face.--The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't let me have anything to do with you.--Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily.--You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you, Buck Mulligan said. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you . . .He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant smile curled his lips.--But a lovely mummer, he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all.He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coat-sleeve. Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown grave-clothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes.”

“God was God's name just as his name was Stephen. Dieu was the French for God and that was God's name too; and when anyone prayed to God and said Dieu then God knew at once that it was a French person that was praying. But though there were different names for God in all the different languages in the world and God understood what all the people who prayed said in their different languages still God remained always the same God and God's real name was God.”