"Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness:
- It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked lookingglass of a servant." (U1.145)
"Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him round the tower, his razor and mirror clacking in the pocket where he had thrust them.
- It's not fair to tease you like that, Kinch, is it? he said kindly. God knows you have more spirit than any of them." (U1.147)

(Image courtesy of Robert Nicholson)
"Parried again. He fears the lancet of my art as I fear that of his. The cold steel pen.
- Cracked lookingglass of a servant! Tell that to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a guinea. He's stinking with money and thinks you're not a gentleman." (U1.152)

The Linati scheme for Telemachus includes the correpondances Stephen - Telemachus; Antinous - Buck Mulligan. Antinous was the most arrogant of Penelope's suitors, and led a campaign to have Telemachus killed.
"His old fellow made his tin by selling jalap to Zulus or some bloody swindle or other. God, Kinch, if you and I could only work together we might do something for the island. Hellenise it.
Cranly's arm. His arm." (U1.156)

Jalap is a laxative! From EB 1911: "Jalap is a cathartic drug consisting of the tuberous roots of Ipomaea Purga, a convolvulaceous plant growing on the eastern declivities of the Mexican Andes at an elevation of 5-8000 ft above the level of the sea. Jalap has been known in Europe since the beginning of the 17c., and derives its name from the city of Jalapa in Mexico, near which it grows." The jalap trade was likely a cover for some bloody swindle or other.
"- And to think of your having to beg from these swine. I'm the only one that knows what you are. Why don't you trust me more? What have you up your nose against me? Is it Haines? If he makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they gave Clive Kempthorpe." (U1.160)
"Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms. Palefaces: they hold their ribs with laughter, one clasping another. O, I shall expire! Break the news to her gently, Aubrey! I shall die!" (U2.165)

'Break the News to Mother Gently' in a song from the 1890s with Lyrics by Edward B. Marx and Music by Will H. Fox. The News to Mother is that her soldier son has died.
"With slit ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops and hobbles round the table, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the tailor's shears. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I don't want to be debagged! Don't you play the giddy ox with me!." (U1.167)"
"Shouts from the open window startling evening in the quadrangle. A deaf gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms.
To ourselves .... new paganism .... omphalos.
- Let him stay, Stephen said. There's nothing wrong with him except at night.
- Then what is it? Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. Cough it up. I'm quite frank with you. What have you against me now?" (U1.172)
"They halted, looking towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the water like the snout of a sleeping whale." (U1.181)
"Stephen freed his arm quietly.
- Do you wish me to tell you? he asked.
- Yes, what is it? Buck Mulligan answered. I don't remember anything.
He looked in Stephen's face as he spoke. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.
Stephen, depressed by his own voice, said:
- Do you remember the first day I went to your house after my mother's death?
Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said:
- What? Where? I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and sensations. Why? What happened in the name of God?
—You were making tea, Stephen said, and went across the landing to get more hot water. Your mother and some visitor came out of the drawingroom. She asked you who was in your room.
- Yes? Buck Mulligan said. What did I say? I forget." (U1.182)
"- You said, Stephen answered, O, it's only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead.
A flush which made him seem younger and more engaging rose to Buck Mulligan's cheek.
- Did I say that? he asked. Well? What harm is that?
He shook his constraint from him nervously.
-And what is death, he asked, your mother's or yours or my own? You saw only your mother die." (U1.198)

'Beastly dead' may be an inversion of the common Irish expression 'beo beithioch', Irish for 'beastly alive.' [suggested by Michael Reidy, a visitor to the site]
"I see them pop off every day in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the dissectingroom. It's a beastly thing and nothing else. It simply doesn't matter. You wouldn't kneel down to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you." (U1.205)
"Why? Because you have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it's injected the wrong way." (U1.208)
"To me it's all a mockery and beastly. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning. She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the quilt. Humour her till it's over." (U1.210)
"You crossed her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me because I don't whinge like some hired mute from Lalouette's. Absurd! I suppose I did say it. I didn't mean to offend the memory of your mother.
He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart, said very coldly:
- I am not thinking of the offence to my mother.
- Of what then? Buck Mulligan asked.
- Of the offence to me, Stephen answered.
Buck Mulligan swung round on his heel.
- O, an impossible person! he exclaimed.
He walked off quickly round the parapet. Stephen stood at his post, gazing over the calm sea towards the headland. Sea and headland now grew dim. Pulses were beating in his eyes, veiling their sight, and he felt the fever of his cheeks.
A voice within the tower called loudly:
- Are you up there, Mulligan?
- I'm coming, Buck Mulligan answered.
He turned towards Stephen and said:
- Look at the sea. What does it care about offences?" (U1.212)
"Chuck Loyola, Kinch, and come on down. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers.
His head halted again for a moment at the top of the staircase, level with the roof:
- Don't mope over it all day, he said. I'm inconsequent. Give up the moody brooding.
His head vanished but the drone of his descending voice boomed out of the stairhead:
- And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love's bitter mystery
For Fergus rules the brazen cars." (U1.231)
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