1 An old servant was sweeping at the end of the landing.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 2 He passed from the trembling bridge on to firm land again.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4 3 And the train raced on over the flat lands and past the Hill of Allen.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 4 He came out on the landing above the entrance hall and looked about him.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 5 The blackest protestant in the land would not speak the language I have heard this evening.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 6 He halted on the landing before the door and then, grasping the porcelain knob, opened the door quickly.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 7 He left the hearth quickly and went towards the landing to oversee the arrival of the first arts' class.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 8 With one foot on the sea and one foot on the land he blew from the arch-angelical trumpet the brazen death of time.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 9 But he imagined that he stood near Emma in a wide land and, humbly and in tears, bent and kissed the elbow of her sleeve.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 10 Of all the plagues with which the land of the Pharaohs were smitten one plague alone, that of darkness, was called horrible.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 11 But when he had passed the old servant on the landing and was again in the low narrow dark corridor he began to walk faster and faster.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 12 In the wide land under a tender lucid evening sky, a cloud drifting westward amid a pale green sea of heaven, they stood together, children that had erred.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 13 A tall man stood on the deck, looking out towards the flat dark land: and by the light at the pierhead he saw his face, the sorrowful face of Brother Michael.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 14 A rim of the young moon cleft the pale waste of skyline, the rim of a silver hoop embedded in grey sand; and the tide was flowing in fast to the land with a low whisper of her waves, islanding a few last figures in distant pools.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4 15 They thought of army commissions and land agents: peasants greeted them along the roads in the country; they knew the names of certain French dishes and gave orders to jarvies in high-pitched provincial voices which pierced through their skin-tight accents.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 16 He saw the darkening lands slipping away past him, the silent telegraph-poles passing his window swiftly every four seconds, the little glimmering stations, manned by a few silent sentries, flung by the mail behind her and twinkling for a moment in the darkness like fiery grains flung backwards by a runner.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 2