"But his heart is buried in Rome. How many broken hearts are buried here, Simon!
- Her grave is over there, Jack, Mr Dedalus said. I'll soon be stretched beside her. Let Him take me whenever He likes.
Breaking down, he began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little in his walk. Mr Power took his arm." (U6.643)
"- She's better where she is, he said kindly.
- I suppose so, Mr Dedalus said with a weak gasp. I suppose she is in heaven if there is a heaven.
Corny Kelleher stepped aside from his rank and allowed the mourners to plod by.
- Sad occasions, Mr Kernan began politely.
Mr Bloom closed his eyes and sadly twice bowed his head.
- The others are putting on their hats, Mr Kernan said. I suppose we can do so too. We are the last. This cemetery is a treacherous place." (U649)
"They covered their heads.
- The reverend gentleman read the service too quickly, don't you think? Mr Kernan said with reproof.
Mr Bloom nodded gravely, looking in the quick bloodshot eyes. Secret eyes, secret searching. Mason, I think: not sure. Beside him again. We are the last. In the same boat. Hope he'll say something else.
Mr Kernan added:
- The service of the Irish church, used in Mount Jerome, is simpler, more impressive, I must say.
Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. The language of course was another thing." (U6.658)
"Mr Kernan said with solemnity:
- I am the resurrection and the life. That touches a man's inmost heart.
- It does, Mr Bloom said." (U6.669)
"Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six feet by two with his toes to the daisies? No touching that. Seat of the affections. Broken heart. A pump after all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day. One fine day it gets bunged up: and there you are." (U6.672)
"Lots of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else." (U6.675)
"The resurrection and the life." (U6.677)
" Once you are dead you are dead. That last day idea. Knocking them all up out of their graves." (U6.677)
" Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job. Get up! Last day!" (U6.678)
"Then every fellow mousing around for his liver and his lights and the rest of his traps. Find damn all of himself that morning. Pennyweight of powder in a skull. Twelve grammes one pennyweight. Troy measure" (U6.679)
"- O, to be sure, John Henry Menton said. I haven't seen her for some time. She was a finelooking woman. I danced with her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. And a good armful she was.
He looked behind through the others.
- What is he? he asked. What does he do? Wasn't he in the stationery line? I fell foul of him one evening, I remember, at bowls.
Ned Lambert smiled." (U6.695)
"- Yes, he was, he said, in Wisdom Hely's. A traveller for blottingpaper." (U6.703)
Hely's was a stationary store, with whom Bloom had held a job. As we see on this PC, in addition to sandwichmen, Hely used trams for advertisements.
"The caretaker hung his thumbs in the loops of his gold watch chain and spoke in a discreet tone to their vacant smiles." (U6.719)
Mr. John O'Connell's watch, as offered for auction by Adam's (Dublin, December 2011).
"- They tell the story, he said, that two drunks came out here one foggy evening to look for the grave of a friend of theirs. They asked for Mulcahy from the Coombe and were told where he was buried. After traipsing about in the fog they found the grave, sure enough. One of the drunks spelt out the name: Terence Mulcahy. The other drunk was blinking up at a statue of Our Saviour the widow had got put up.
The caretaker blinked up at one of the sepulchres they passed. He resumed:
- And, after blinking up at the sacred figure, Not a bloody bit like the man, says he. That's not Mulcahy, says he, whoever done it.
Rewarded by smiles he fell back and spoke with Corny Kelleher, accepting the dockets given him, turning them over and scanning them as he walked." (U6.722)
"Did I write Ballsbridge on the envelope I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha? Hope it's not chucked in the dead letter office." (U6.742)
"Be the better of a shave. Grey sprouting beard. That's the first sign when the hairs come out grey. And temper getting cross. Silver threads among the grey. Fancy being his wife. Wonder he had the gumption to propose to any girl. Come out and live in the graveyard. Dangle that before her. It might thrill her first. Courting death. Shades of night hovering here with all the dead stretched about." (U6.744)