God spoke to you by so many voices but you would not hear.

God and religion before every thing!' Dante cried. 'God and religion before the world.'

Mr Casey raised his clenched fist and brought it down on the table with a crash.

'Very well then,' he shouted hoarsely, 'if it comes to that, no God for Ireland!'

'John! John!' cried Mr Dedalus, seizing his guest by the coat sleeve.

Dante stared across the table, her cheeks shaking. Mr Casey struggled up from his chair and bent across the table towards her, scraping the air from before his eyes with one hand as though he were tearing aside a cobweb.

'No God for Ireland!' he cried, 'We have had too much God in Ireland. Away with God!

The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails

I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.

What is more enchanting than the voices of young people when you can't hear what they say

Men hear loud voices, but they listen to strong words.