1 His eyes shunned every encounter with the eyes of women.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4 2 The peasant women stood at the half-doors, the men stood here and there.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 1 3 Statues of women, if Lynch be right, should always be fully draped, one hand of the woman feeling regretfully her own hinder parts.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 4 He felt then the sufferings of women, the weaknesses of their bodies and souls; and would shield them with a strong and resolute arm and bow his mind to them.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 5 The names of articles of dress worn by women or of certain soft and delicate stuffs used in their making brought always to his mind a delicate and sinful perfume.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4 6 The squalid scene composed itself around him; the common accents, the burning gas-jets in the shops, odours of fish and spirits and wet sawdust, moving men and women.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 3 7 One is this hypothesis: that every physical quality admired by men in women is in direct connexion with the manifold functions of women for the propagation of the species.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 8 The rain-laden trees of the avenue evoked in him, as always, memories of the girls and women in the plays of Gerhart Hauptmann; and the memory of their pale sorrows and the fragrance falling from the wet branches mingled in a mood of quiet joy.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 5 9 He would know the sins, the sinful longings and sinful thoughts and sinful acts, of others, hearing them murmured into his ears in the confessional under the shame of a darkened chapel by the lips of women and of girls; but rendered immune mysteriously at his ordination by the imposition of hands, his soul would pass again uncontaminated to the white peace of the altar.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man By James JoyceContextHighlight In Chapter 4