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Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [158]

By Root 9826 0
on coverswised, and all that’s

consecants and cotangincies till Per-perp

stops repippinghim since her redtangles

are all abscissan for limitsing this

tendency of our Frivulteeny Sexuagesima3

to expense her-selfs as sphere as possible,

paradismic peri— mutter, in all directions

on the bend of the unbridalled, the

infinisissimalls of her facets becoming

manier and manier as the calicolum of her

umdescribables (one has thoughts of that

eternal Rome) shrinks from schurtiness

file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]

Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce

1 I enjoy as good as anyone.

2 Neither a soul to be saved nor a body to be kicked. 3 The boast of the town.

Canine Venus

to scherts.1 Scholium, there are trist

sublimated to

sigheds to everysing but ichs on the freed

Aulidic

brings euchs to the feared. Qued? Mother

Aphrodite.

of us all! O, dear me, look at that now! I

Exclusivism:

the Ors, Sors

don’t know is it your spictre or my

and Fors,

omination but I’m glad you dimentioned it

which?

! My Lourde ! My Lourde ! If that aint just

the beatenest lay I ever see ! And a

superpbosition ! Quoint a quincidence !

O.K. Omnius Kollidimus. As Ollover

Krumwall sayed when he slepped ueber

his grannya-mother. Kangaroose feathers:

Who in the name of thunder’d ever

belevin you were that bolt? But you’re

holy mooxed and gaping up the wrong

palce2 as if you was seeheeing the gheist

that stays forenenst, you blessed

simpletop domefool! Where’s your

belested loiternan’s lamp? You must lap

wandret down the bluishing refluction

below. Her trunk’s not her brain— box.

Hear where the bolgylines, Yseen here the

puncture. So he done it. Luck! See her

good. Well, well, well, well! O dee, O dee,

that’s very lovely ! We like Simperspreach

Hammel-tones to fellow Selvertunes

O’Haggans.3 When he rolls over his ars

and shows the hise of his heels. Vely lovely entilely! Like a yangsheep-slang with the

tsifengtse. So analytical plaus— ible ! And

be the powers of Moll Kelly, neigh— bour

topsowyer, it will be a lozenge to me all

my lauffe.4 More better twofeller we been

speak copperads. Ever thought about

Guinness’s? And the regrettable Parson

Rome’s advice?

file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]

Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce

1 Hen’s bens, are we soddy we missiled her?

2 I call that a scumhead.

3 Pure chingchong idiotism with any way words all in one soluble. Gee each owe tea eye smells fish. That’s U.

4 The Doodles family, Hoodle doodle, fam.?

Want to join the police.1 You know, you

were always one of the bright ones, since

a foot made you an unmentionable, fakes !

You know, you’re the divver’s own smart

gossoon, aequal to yoursell and wanigel to

anglyother, so you are, hoax! You know,

you’ll be dampned, so you will, one of

these invernal days but you will be,

carrotty! 2

Wherapool, gayet that when he stop look

Primanouriture

SICK US A

and Ultimo-

time he stop long ground who here hurry

SOCK WITH

geniture No

he would have ever the lothst word, with a

SOME SEDI Sturm. No

sweet me ah err eye ear marie to reat from

MENT IN IT

Drang.

FOR THE

the jacob’s3 and a shypull for toothsake of

SAKE OF OUR

his armjaws at the slidepage of de Vere

DARNING

Foster, would and could candykissing P.

WIVES.

Kevin to fress up the rinnerung and to ate

by hart (leo I read, such a spanish,

escribibis all your mycoscoups) wont to

nibbleh ravenostonnoriously ihs mum to

me in bewonderment of his chipper

chuthor for, while that Other by the halp

of his creac-tive mind offered to

deleberate the mass from the booty of

fight our Same with the holp of the bounty

of food sought to delubberate the mess

from his corructive mund, with his

muffetee cuffes ownconsciously

grafficking with his sinister cyclopes after trigamies and spirals’ wobbles pursuiting

their rovinghamil-ton selves and

godolphing in fairlove to see around the

waste of noland’s browne jesus 4 (thur

him no quartos!)

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