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Current Search - sweet in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
1 God's yoke was sweet and light.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
2 For I love sweet Rosie O'Grady.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
3 The old and weary voice fell like sweet rain upon his quaking parching heart.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
4 A spirit filled him, pure as the purest water, sweet as dew, moving as music.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
5 He lay still, as if his soul lay amid cool waters, conscious of faint sweet music.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
6 No, Stephen, old chap, I'm sorry to say that they are only as I roved out one fine May morning in the merry month of sweet July.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 2
7 It was the night of the match against the Bective Rangers; and the ball was made just like a red and green apple only it opened and it was full of the creamy sweets.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 1
8 Heaven was still and faintly luminous and the air sweet to breathe, as in a thicket drenched with showers; and amid peace and shimmering lights and quiet fragrance he made a covenant with his heart.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
9 Simon Moonan had nice clothes and one night he had shown him a ball of creamy sweets that the fellows of the football fifteen had rolled down to him along the carpet in the middle of the refectory when he was at the door.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 1
10 Then he saw himself sitting at the old piano, striking chords softly from its speckled keys and singing, amid the talk which had risen again in the room, to her who leaned beside the mantelpiece a dainty song of the Elizabethans, a sad and sweet loth to depart, the victory chant of Agincourt, the happy air of Greensleeves.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
11 And he tasted in the language of memory ambered wines, dying fallings of sweet airs, the proud pavan, and saw with the eyes of memory kind gentlewomen in Covent Garden wooing from their balconies with sucking mouths and the pox-fouled wenches of the taverns and young wives that, gaily yielding to their ravishers, clipped and clipped again.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5