"Piano again. Sounds better than last time I heard. Tuned probably.
Stopped again.
Dollard and Cowley still urged the lingering singer out with it.
— With it, Simon.
— It, Simon.
— Ladies and gentlemen, I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations.
— It, Simon.
— I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a heart bowed down." (U11.650)
"By the sandwichbell in screening shadow, Lydia her bronze and rose, a lady's grace, gave and withheld: as in cool glaucous eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold.
The harping chords of prelude closed. A chord longdrawn, expectant drew a voice away." (U11.660)
"- When first I saw that form endearing...
Richie turned.
- Si Dedalus' voice, he said.
Braintipped, cheek touched with flame, they listened feeling that flow endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine." (U11.665)
"Bloom signed to Pat, bald Pat is a waiter hard of hearing, to set ajar the door of the bar. The door of the bar. So. That will do. Pat, waiter, waited, waiting to hear, for he was hard of hear by the door.
- Sorrow from me seemed to depart." (U11.669)
"Through the hush of air a voice sang to them, low, not rain, not leaves in murmur, like no voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem dulcimers, touching their still ears with words, still hearts of their each his remembered lives." (U11.674)
" Good, good to hear: sorrow from them each seemed to from both depart when first they heard. When first they saw, lost Richie Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard from a person wouldn't expect it in the least, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word." (U11.677)
"Love that is singing: love's old sweet song.." (U11.681)
"Bloom unwound slowly the elastic band of his packet. Love's old sweet sonnez la gold.
Bloom wound a skein round four forkfingers, stretched it, relaxed, and wound it round his troubled double, fourfold, in octave, gyved them fast.
— Full of hope and all delighted..." (U11.681)
"Tenors get women by the score. Increase their flow. Throw flower at his feet when will we meet?" (U8.686)

Hmm, not always it seems.
"My head it simply. Jingle all delighted. He can't sing for tall hats. Your head it simply swurls. Perfumed for him. What perfume does your wife? I want to know." (U11.687)
"Jing. Stop. Knock. Last look at mirror always before she answers the door. The hall. There? How do you? I do well. There? What? Or? Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in her satchel. Yes? Hands felt for the opulent.
Alas! The voice rose, sighing, changed: loud, full, shining, proud.
- But alas, 'twas idle dreaming..." (U11.689)
"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." (U[13.704])
"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)
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