"Glorious tone he has still. Cork air softer also their brogue. " (U11.695)
"Silly man! Could have made oceans of money. Singing wrong words. Wore out his wife: now sings. But hard to tell. Only the two themselves. If he doesn't break down. Keep a trot for the avenue. His hands and feet sing too. Drink. Nerves overstrung. Must be abstemious to sing." (U11.695)
"Jenny Lind soup: stock, sage, raw eggs, half pint of cream. For creamy dreamy.
Tenderness it welled: slow, swelling. Full it throbbed. That's the chat. Ha, give! Take! Throb, a throb, a pulsing proud erect.
Words? Music? No: it's what's behind." (U11.699)
"Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded.
Bloom. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, in desire, dark to lick flow invading. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Tup. Pores to dilate dilating. Tup. The joy the feel the warm the. Tup. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. Flood, gush, flow, joygush, tupthrob. Now! Language of love.
— ... ray of hope is...
Beaming. Lydia for Lidwell squeak scarcely hear so ladylike the muse unsqueaked a ray of hope." (U11.704)
"Martha it is. Coincidence. Just going to write. Lionel's song. Lovely name you have. Can't write. Accept my little pres. Play on her heartstrings pursestrings too. She's a. I called you naughty boy. Still the name: Martha. How strange! Today." (U11.713)
"The voice of Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. It sang again to Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat open mouth ear waiting to wait." (U11.717)
... or waiting to be waited on...
"How first he saw that form endearing, how sorrow seemed to part, how look, form, word charmed him Gould Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart." (U11.719)
"Wish I could see his face, though. Explain better. Why the barber in Drago's always looked my face when I spoke his face in the glass. Still hear it better here than in the bar though farther.
- Each graceful look... " (U11.721)
"First night when first I saw her at Mat Dillon's in Terenure. Yellow, black lace she wore. Musical chairs. We two the last. Fate. After her. Fate. Round and round slow. Quick round. We two. All looked. Halt. Down she sat. All ousted looked. Lips laughing. Yellow knees.
- Charmed my eye...Singing.
Waiting she sang. I turned her music. " (U11.725)
"Full voice of perfume of what perfume does your lilactrees." (U11.730)
"Bosom I saw, both full, throat warbling. First I saw. She thanked me. Why did she me? Fate. Spanishy eyes." (U11.731)
"Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in shadow Dolores shedolores. At me. Luring. Ah, alluring." (U11.733)
"- Martha! Ah, Martha!
Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in cry of passion dominant to love to return with deepening yet with rising chords of harmony. In cry of lionel loneliness that she should know, must martha feel. For only her he waited. Where? Here there try there here all try where. Somewhere.
- Co-ome, thou lost one!
Co-ome thou dear one!
Alone. One love. One hope. One comfort me. Martha, chestnote, return!
- Come!" (U11.735)
"It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness...
- To me!
"Come. Well sung. All clapped. She ought to. Come. To me, to him, to her, you too, me, us.
— Bravo! Clapclap. Good man, Simon. Clappyclapclap. Encore!
Clapclipclap clap. Sound as a bell. Bravo, Simon! Clapclopclap. Encore, enclap, said, cried, clapped all, Ben Dollard, Lydia Douce, George Lidwell, Pat, Mina Kennedy, two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, first gent with tank and bronze miss Douce and gold miss Mina.
Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the barfloor, said before." (U11.754)
"Jingle, by monuments of sir John Gray," (U11.762)