"Next year in Jerusalem. Dear, O dear!" (U7.207)
"All that long business about that brought us out of the land of Egypt and into the house of bondage alleluia. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu. No, that's the other." (U7.208)
"Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons. And then the lamb and the cat and the dog and the stick and the water and the butcher and then the angel of death kills the butcher and he kills the ox and the dog kills the cat. Sounds a bit silly till you come to look into it well. Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. That's what life is after all." (U7.210)
"That's what life is after all. How quickly he does that job. Practice makes perfect. Seems to see with his fingers.
Mr Bloom passed on out of the clanking noises through the gallery onto the landing. Now am I going to tram it out all the way and then catch him out perhaps. Better phone him up first. Number? Yes. Same as Citron's house. Twentyeight. Twentyeight double four." (U7.214)
"ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP
He went down the house staircase. Who the deuce scrawled all over these walls with matches? Looks as if they did it for a bet. Heavy greasy smell there always is in those works. Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door when I was there." (U7.221)
"He took out his handkerchief to dab his nose. Citronlemon? Ah, the soap I put there. Lose it out of that pocket. Putting back his handkerchief he took out the soap and stowed it away, buttoned, into the hip pocket of his trousers.
What perfume does your wife use?" (U7.226)
"I could go home still: tram: something I forgot. Just to see: before: dressing. No. Here. No.
A sudden screech of laughter came from the Evening Telegraph office. Know who that is. What's up? Pop in a minute to phone. Ned Lambert it is.
He entered softly." (U7.230)
"ERIN, GREEN GEM OF THE SILVER SEA" (U7.235)
"- The ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the dusty windowpane." (U7.237
The ghost walks = it's payday
"Mr Dedalus, staring from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's quizzing face, asked of it sourly:
- Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?
Ned Lambert, seated on the table, read on:
- Or again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles on its way, tho' quarrelling with the stony obstacles," (U7.239)
"to the tumbling waters of Neptune's blue domain, 'mid mossy banks fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the shadows cast o'er its pensive bosom by the overarching leafage of the giants of the forest. What about that, Simon? he asked over the fringe of his newspaper. How's that for high?
—Changing his drink, Mr Dedalus said.
Ned Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper on his knees, repeating:
- The pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage. O boys! O boys!" (U7.244)
"- And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Dedalus said, looking again on the fireplace and to the window, and Marathon looked on the sea.
- That will do, professor MacHugh cried from the window. I don't want to hear any more of the stuff." (U7.254)
"He ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and, hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand." (U7.258)
"High falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see. Rather upsets a man's day, a funeral does. He has influence they say. Old Chatterton, the vice-chancellor, is his granduncle or his greatgranduncle. Close on ninety they say. Subleader for his death written this long time perhaps. Living to spite them. Might go first himself. Johnny, make room for your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. Windfall when he kicks out. Alleluia." (U7.260)
"SHORT BUT TO THE POINT
- Whose land? Mr Bloom said simply.
- Most pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With an accent on the whose." (U7.272)
Cleverest fellow at the junior bar he used to be. Decline, poor chap. That hectic flush spells finis for a man. Touch and go with him. What's in the wind, I wonder. Money worry.
- Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.
- You're looking extra.
- Is the editor to be seen? J.J. O'Molloy asked, looking towards the inner door.
- Very much so, professor MacHugh said. To be seen and heard. He's in his sanctum with Lenehan.
J. J. O'Molloy strolled to the sloping desk and began to turn back the pink pages of the file.
Practice dwindling. A mighthavebeen. Losing heart. Gambling. Debts of honour. Reaping the whirlwind." (U7.291)