1 A bird twittered; two birds, three.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 2 A bird twittered; two birds, three.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 3 And for ages men had gazed upward as he was gazing at birds in flight.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 4 He watched their flight; bird after bird: a dark flash, a swerve, a flutter of wings.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 5 The bird call from SIEGFRIED whistled softly followed them from the steps of the porch.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 6 He had often thought it strange that Vincent Heron had a bird's face as well as a bird's name.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 2 7 Stephen shook his head and smiled in his rival's flushed and mobile face, beaked like a bird's.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 2 8 Her bosom was as a bird's, soft and slight, slight and soft as the breast of some dark-plumaged dove.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4 9 The bell and the bird ceased; and the dull white light spread itself east and west, covering the world, covering the roselight in his heart.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 10 All life would be choked off, noiselessly: birds, men, elephants, pigs, children: noiselessly floating corpses amid the litter of the wreckage of the world.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 11 The evening air was pale and chilly and after every charge and thud of the footballers the greasy leather orb flew like a heavy bird through the grey light.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 12 That was a long time ago then out on the playgrounds in the evening light, creeping from point to point on the fringe of his line, a heavy bird flying low through the grey light.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 13 Then he was to go away for they were birds ever going and coming, building ever an unlasting home under the eaves of men's houses and ever leaving the homes they had built to wander.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 14 The fruitful earth gave them her bounty: beasts and birds were their willing servants: they knew not the ills our flesh is heir to, disease and poverty and death: all that a great and generous God could do for them was done.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3