SCYLLA & CHARYBDIS

"Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, laughing to the dark eavesdropping ceiling.
- Murder you! he laughed.
Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint-André-des-Arts. In words of words for words, palabras. Oisin with Patrick. Faunman he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle. C'est vendredi saint! Murthering Irish. His image, wandering, he met. I mine. I met a fool i' the forest." (U9.573)