"Weathercocks. Hot and cold in the same breath. Wouldn't know which to believe. One story good till you hear the next." (U7.309)
"Go for one another baldheaded in the papers and then all blows over. Hail fellow well met the next moment." (U7.311)
"- Ah, listen to this for God's sake, Ned Lambert pleaded. Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks...
- Bombast! the professor broke in testily. Enough of the inflated windbag!
Peaks, Ned Lambert went on, towering high on high, to bathe our souls, as it were ...
- Bathe his lips, Mr Dedalus said. Blessed and eternal God! Yes? Is he taking anything for it?" (U8.313)
""- As 'twere, in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched, despite their wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for very beauty, of bosky grove and undulating plain and luscious pastureland of vernal green, steeped in the transcendent translucent glow of our mild mysterious Irish twilight...
- The moon, professor MacHugh said. He forgot Hamlet." (U7.320)
"HIS NATIVE DORIC

- That mantles the vista far and wide and wait till the glowing orb of the moon shines forth to irradiate her silver effulgence...
- O! Mr Dedalus cried, giving vent to a hopeless groan. Shite and onions! That'll do, Ned. Life is too short.
He took off his silk hat and, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.
Ned Lambert tossed the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight. An instant after a hoarse bark of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's unshaven blackspectacled face.
- Doughy Daw! he cried." (U7.330)
"WHAT WETHERUP SAID

All very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it goes down like hot cake that stuff. He was in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call him Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well anyhow." (U7.337)
"Daughter engaged to that chap in the inland revenue office with the motor. Hooked that nicely. Entertainments open house." (U7.340)
"Big blow out. Wetherup always said that. Get a grip of them by the stomach." (U7.342)


Blowout = a large or lavish meal or social gathering.
"The inner door was opened violently and a scarlet beaked face, crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. The bold blue eyes stared about them and the harsh voice asked:
- What is it?
- And here comes the sham squire himself! professor MacHugh said grandly.
- Getonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue! the editor said in recognition." (U7.344)
"- Come, Ned, Mr Dedalus said, putting on his hat. I must get a drink after that.
- Drink! the editor cried. No drinks served before mass." (U7.351)
"- Quite right too, Mr Dedalus said, going out. Come on, Ned.
Ned Lambert sidled down from the table. The editor's blue eyes roved towards Mr Bloom's face, shadowed by a smile.
- Will you join us, Myles? Ned Lambert asked." (U7.354)
"MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED

- North Cork militia! the editor cried, striding to the mantelpiece. We won every time! North Cork and Spanish officers!
- Where was that, Myles? Ned Lambert asked with a reflective glance at his toecaps.
- In Ohio! the editor shouted.
- So it was, begad, Ned Lambert agreed.
Passing out he whispered to J.J. O'Molloy:
- Incipient jigs. Sad case.
- Ohio! the editor crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face. My Ohio!
- A perfect cretic! the professor said. Long, short and long." (U7.358)
"O, HARP EOLIAN!

He took a reel of dental floss from his waistcoat pocket and, breaking off a piece, twanged it smartly between two and two of his resonant unwashed teeth.
- Bingbang, bangbang.
Mr Bloom, seeing the coast clear, made for the inner door.
- Just a moment, Mr Crawford, he said. I just want to phone about an ad.
He went in.
- What about that leader this evening? professor MacHugh asked, coming to the editor and laying a firm hand on his shoulder.
- That'll be all right, Myles Crawford said more calmly. Never you fret.
Hello, Jack. That's all right.
- Good day, Myles, J. J. O'Molloy said, letting the pages he held slip limply back on the file. Is that Canada swindle case on today?
The telephone whirred inside.
- Twenty eight... No, twenty... Double four... Yes." (U7.384)
"SPOT THE WINNER
Lenehan came out of the inner office with Sport' s tissues." (U7.386)
"- Who wants a dead cert for the Gold cup? he asked. Sceptre" (U7.388)
"with O. Madden up.
He tossed the tissues on to the table." (U7.388)
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