You'll know me the next time.
(Composed, regards her.) Passée. Mutton dressed as lamb. Long in the tooth and superfluous hairs. A raw onion the last thing at night would benefit your complexion." (U15.3479)
[Note: this is not a photo of Bella Cohen]
An ad to cure a double chin from Pearson's Magazine (1905)
(Contemptuously.) You're not game, in fact. (Her sowcunt barks.) Fbhracht!
(Contemptuously.) Clean your nailless middle finger first, your bully's cold spunk is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of hay and wipe yourself.
I know you, canvasser! Dead cod!
I saw him, kipkeeper! Pox and gleet vendor!" (U15.3488)
(Turns to the piano.) Which of you was playing the dead march from Saul?
Me. Mind your cornflowers." (U15.3499)
(Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom approaches Zoe.)" (U15.3502)
(Gently.) Give me back that potato, will you?
Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing.
(With feeling.) It is nothing, but still a relic of poor mamma.
Give a thing and take it back
God'll ask you where is that
You'll say you don't know
God'll send you down below." (U15.3508)
There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it.
To have or not to have, that is the question.
Here. (She hauls up a reef of her slip, revealing her bare thigh, and unrolls the potato from the top of her stocking.) Those that hides knows where to find."
(lifting up her pettigown and folding a half sovereign into the top of her stocking) Hard earned on the flat of my back.
(lifting Kitty from the table) Come!
Wait. (she clutches the two crowns)
(He lifts her, carries her and bumps her down on the sofa.)"
The fox crew, the cocks flew,
The bells in heaven
Were striking eleven.
'Tis time for her poor soul
To get out of heaven..
How is that? Le distrait or absentminded beggar. (He fumbles again in his pocket and draws out a handful of coins. An object falls.) That fell.."
(quietly) You had better hand over that cash to me to take care of. Why pay more?
(hands him all his coins) Be just before you are generous.
I will but is it wise? (he counts) One, seven, eleven, and five. Six. Eleven. I don't answer for what you may have lost."
Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next Lessing says. Thirsty fox. (He laughs loudly.) Burying his grandmother. Probably he killed her.
That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say.
Doesn't matter a rambling damn.
(comes to the table) Cigarette, please. (Lynch tosses a cigarette from the sofa to the table)."
(Watching him.) You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer.
(Brings the match nearer his eye.) Ly/nx eye. Must get glasses. Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. (He draws the match away. It goes out.) Brain thinks. Near: far. Ineluctable modality of the visible. (He frowns mysteriously.) Hm. Sphinx. The beast that has two backs at midnight. Married."