"He hummed prolonging in solemn ech/o the closes of the bars:
Don Giovanni, a cenar teco
M' invitasti." (U8.1039)
"Feel better. Burgundy. Good pick me up. Who distilled first? Some chap in the blues. Dutch courage. That Kilkenny People in the national library now I must." (U8.1042)
"Bare clean closestools, waiting, in the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back his thoughts. They could: and watch it all the way down, swallow a pin sometimes come out of the ribs years after, tour round the body, changing biliary duct, spleen squirting liver, gastric juice coils of intestines like pipes. But the poor buffer would have to stand all the time with his insides entrails on show. Science." (U8.1045)
"— A cenar teco.
What does that teco mean? Tonight perhaps.
— Don Giovanni, thou hast me invited
To come to supper tonight,
The rum the rumdum.
Doesn't go properly." (U8.1051)
"Keyes: two months if I get Nannetti to. That'll be two pounds ten, about two pounds eight. Three Hynes owes me. Two eleven. Prescott's dyeworks van over there. If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two fifteen. Five guineas about. On the pig's back." (U8.1057)
"Could buy one of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her new garters.
Today. Today. Not think." (U8.1061)
"Tour the south then. What about English watering places? Brighton, Margate. Piers by moonlight. Her voice floating out." (U8.1064)
"Those lovely seaside girls." (U8.1065)
"Against John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. Handy man wants job. Small wages. Will eat anything." (U8.1066)
"Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of unbought tarts and passed the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore. " (U8.1069)
"Why I left the church of Rome. Birds' Nest women run him. They say they used to give pauper children soup to change to protestants in the time of the potato blight. Society over the way papa went to for the conversion of poor jews." (U8.1070)
"Same bait. Why we left the church of Rome." (U8.1074)
"A blind stripling stood tapping the curbstone with his slender cane. No tram in sight. Wants to cross.
- Do you want to cross? Mr Bloom asked.
The blind stripling did not answer. His wall face frowned weakly. He moved his head uncertainly.
- You're in Dawson street, Mr Bloom said. Molesworth street is opposite. Do you want to cross? There's nothing in the way." (U8.1075)
The cane moved out trembling to the left. Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. Where I saw his brillantined hair just when I was. Horse drooping. Driver in John Long's. Slaking his drouth.
— There's a van there, Mr Bloom said, but it's not moving. I'll see you across. Do you want to go to Molesworth street?
— Yes, the stripling answered. South Frederick street." (U8.1082)
"— Come, Mr Bloom said.
He touched the thin elbow gently: then took the limp seeing hand to guide it forward.
Say something to him. Better not do the condescending. They mistrust what you tell them. Pass a common remark.
— The rain kept off.
No answer.
Stains on his coat. Slobbers his food, I suppose. Tastes all different for him. Have to be spoonfed first. Like a child's hand, his hand. Like Milly's was. Sensitive. Sizing me up I daresay from my hand." (U8.1089)
"Wonder if he has a name, Van. Keep his cane clear of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze. That's right. Clear. Behind a bull: in front of a horse.
- Thanks, sir.
Knows I'm a man. Voice.
- Right now? First turn to the left. " (U8.1098)
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