—She never let them in, he cried again through his laughter as he stamped on gaitered feet over the gravel of the path. That’s why.
Accueil > Mots-clés > Chapitre > Nestor
Nestor
Articles
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#Ulysse 578
5 septembre 2013, par Guillaume Vissac -
#Ulysse 389
28 février 2013, par Guillaume VissacFor Haines’s chapbook. No-one here to hear.
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#Ulysse 560
18 août 2013, par Guillaume Vissac—Yes, Mr Deasy said. You have two copies there. If you can have them published at once.
Telegraph. Irish Homestead. -
#Ulysse 424
4 avril 2013, par Guillaume VissacStephen, his throat itching, answered :
— The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush. -
#Ulysse 388
27 février 2013, par Guillaume VissacThe words troubled their gaze.
— How, sir ? Comyn asked. A bridge is across a river. -
#Ulysse 503
22 juin 2013, par Guillaume Vissac—I have rebel blood in me too, Mr Deasy said. On the spindle side. But I am descended from sir John Blackwood who voted for the union. We are all Irish, all kings’ sons.
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#Ulysse 531
20 juillet 2013, par Guillaume Vissac—Mark my words, Mr Dedalus, he said. England is in the hands of the jews. In all the highest places : her finance, her press. And they are the signs of a nation’s decay. Wherever they gather they eat up the nation’s vital strength. I have seen it coming these years. As sure as we are standing here the jew merchants are already at their work of destruction. Old England is dying.
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#Ulysse 396
7 mars 2013, par Guillaume Vissac—Go on then, Talbot.
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#Ulysse 434
14 avril 2013, par Guillaume Vissac—Numbers eleven to fifteen, Sargent answered. Mr Deasy said I was
to copy them off the board, sir. -
#Ulysse 372
11 février 2013, par Guillaume VissacFabled by the daughters of memory. And yet it was in some way if not as memory fabled it. A phrase, then, of impatience, thud of Blake’s wings of excess. I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry, and time one livid final flame. What’s left us then ?