Ulysses

Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes.

Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can’t wear grey trousers.

Pan’s hour, the faunal noon.

And no more turn aside and brood.

Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.

Yes, evening will find itself in me, without me.

—What was their civilisation? Vast, I allow: but vile. Cloacae: sewers. The Jews in the wilderness and on the mountaintop said: It is meet to be here. Let us build an altar to Jehovah. The Roman, like the Englishman who follows in his footsteps, brought to every new shore on which he set his foot (on our shore he never set it) only his cloacal obse

He turned his face over a shoulder, rere regardant. Moving through the air high spars of a threemaster, her sails brailed up on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a silent ship.

See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end.