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mercredi 2 mars 2011

Magique !

Two fellows that would suck whisky off a sore leg.

James Joyce, Ulysses, p.228, Penguin student's edition - 1992

Le mystère des huîtres

All the odd things people pick up for food. Out of shells, periwinkles with a pin, off trees, snails out of the ground the French eat, out of the sea with bait on a hook. Silly fish learn nothing in a thousand years. If you didn't know risky putting anything into your mouth. Poisonous berries. Johnny Magories. Roundness you think good. Gaudy colour warns you off. One fellow told another and so on. Try it on the dog first. Led on by the smell or the look. Tempting fruit. Ice cones. Cream. Instinct. Orangegroves for instance. Need artificial irrigation. Bleibtreustrasse. Yes but what about oysters? Unsightly like a clot of phlegm. Filthy shells. Devil to open them too. Who found them out?

James Joyce, Ulysses, p.222, Penguin student's edition 1992

Manières de table

Well up : it splashed yellow near his boot. A diner, knife and fork upright, elbows on table, ready for a second helping stared towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. Other chap telling him something with his mouthfull. Sympathetic listener. Table talk. I munched hum un thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday. Ha? Did you, faith?
Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his lips. His eyes said.
— Not here. Don't see him.
Out. I hate dirty eaters.

James Joyce, Ulysses, p.216, Penguin student's edition, 1992

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