#and nai... will use silverware

[karlydraws]

✨Assassin Servant Twins✨ at your service

(timelapse and alt colors under the cut)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Break Bones?

There has been nothing but tension between you and your ward, and Breakbones has only added to it.

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader x Harwin Strong | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has golden lannister hair, enemies to lovers, forced proximity ig, im just a girl!reader, angst?, jealousy, typos, etc.

A/N: this the '3rd part' to Seeing Red (1) and Seeing Green (2) but you dont have to read either to understand what's happening <3. Also, I think a lot of facts are skewed here in this fic but... Roll with it pls thx. I hope someone enjoys this because I do nawt 🥲

Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings @targs-on-zorses @barbieaemond @arabellasleopardcoat @dreamsandconstellations

@uniquecroissant @holdingforgeneralhugs @b00kw0rmsworld

Lunch was my favorite meal. This time of day was most pleasant, with the sun high in the sky and the birds singing. Normally at this time, whatever grogginess the morning gave me would long be gone. But today, it was not so.

Gwayne turns to me as I pointedly smack on my meal to annoy him. If my day is grim, then so should his.

He chews harder than he needs to then swallows, "I see frolicking with Breakbones has made you forget your pedigree."

I raise my brows, "nay," I set my spoon down, "my meal is simply so scrumptious that I cannot contain myself."

Gwayne releases a breath. I watch him as he reaches for his teacup. He looks as though he's using all the muscles in his body to withhold an eye roll. He takes a sip; the heat of the tea leaves his lips ruddy.

I watch him set his floral cup down. I watch him as he leans back on his chair. When did his get that long? The locks by his temples go past his cheeks now. A line forms on his face when I stare too long. I avert my gaze to my own teacup. The milkiness of his face is reflected in my drink. My stomach churns.

"So-" "How-"

We look at each other after speaking at the same time. I open my mouth, meaning to tell him to go first, but he cuts me off and simply speaks, "how is Breakbones?"

Offence latches on my being. How ill-mannered of him not to even feign the courtesy of allowing me to speak first. Irritation springs forth, so I quip, "what?"

Gwayne scoops some honey and stirs it into his tea. He licks what remained on the silverware.

I avoid his eyes as he does so.

"Your whereabouts have not gone unnoticed by me," he says dryly, "I am aware that you have since been accompanied by Breakbones to the market more than once."

A horrid scowl finds my features, "and just who is this foul creature?"

Gwayne's expression falls until my scowl is reflected on him. His jaw sets, "I can assure you; you have already wholly vexed me this morn; you needn't feign ignorance to add to it."

"But I am not acquainted to this brute who breaks bones," I hiss, "and I need not feign something which comes easy for me."

He realizes then that I was sincere in my own vexation when I heatedly continue.

"Your delusions of my character will not bleed into reality, Ser." I pointedly raise a brow, "whichever part of my body you think would associate with such people who garner such names would surely rather strike your cheek."

He furrows his brows as he tilts his head, "yet it seems you are ignorant to the fact Breakbones is your beloved City Watch commander."

My brows furrow. I am silent for a moment before speaking, "Ser Harwin?"

He scoffs out a chuckle, "oh, yes," he takes a sip of his tea, "the brute with such a name is the one you have extended such warm amity to as of late."

A moment of concern and even alarm floods me. But it is fleeting the next moment, and my expression falls. I huff. A pit grows in my stomach, "how acrid and crude."

Gwayne's brows quirk as he gulps his tea. The manner in which his lips curl pierce through my belly in the most unpleasant of ways.

"I am well aware that you and I have never met eye to eye, that you disagree with my interest in beautiful things-"

His expression slips.

"-but your want to deter me of my only companion here is repellent, even for one as you."

Companion? Gwayne's blood rises just as I from my seat across him, "such as I?"

"Such as you!" I maintain, chucking my table napkin onto my half-finished plate.

"I see your unfeigned ignorance has made you callous to my efforts to please you," he words harshly, slowly rising from his seat.

"But it is not your work to please me!" I snap, "your work is to keep me safe!"

"From library books?!" he raises his voice, "from cakes and dresses? What is your danger in King's Landing when not only do a thousand guards reside within these walls, but your own lord brother is seated upon the council of the king?"

My nostrils flare at his words. I decide to maintain my dignity by forfeiting my response. I gather my skirts and flee him.

He releases an irritated laugh, "oh, how very like of you!"

"Do not wait. I have errands to accomplish."

"Ha! Do accomplish them well with your beloved Breakbones."

I storm away from him. I storm and storm until my face rains. It annoys me how my breath shortens and how my throat constricts. I run off to my chambers and dismiss any ready servants there. I crumble to my bed and wring out my melancholy.

The letter I received late last night calls to me from my vanity. I sigh and reach out to it. I slide down my bed and will the contents of the letter to change.

It does not work. The words are as clear as they were last night underneath my lamp, if not clearer now in afternoon shine.

Highgarden would be honored to receive Lady Lannister. House Tyrell presently prepares its home in hopes it will be hers in the apparent future.

I rip the parchment to shreds, as if its riddance would destroy the reality it held.

It does not.

It comforts me, nonetheless.

I wash my face and reapply rogue before exiting my chambers. I begin to walk off but freeze when I see Gwayne at the end of the hallway. He does nothing. He says nothing.

I turn the other way.

I find myself heading to the guard's quarters, where I soon learned Ser Harwin was not. A guard informs me that he was in the training grounds, and so I promptly make my way there.

The moment Harwin catches the golden glint upon my head, he is distracted. He pays less attention to his pupils, offering me a smile and nod in regard. Soon, when I am close enough, he says a quick word before abandoning his post altogether.

Harwin struts up to me with another smile and nod, "my lady Lannister."

My heart swells at his kind regard, a stark contrast of Gwyane, "lord Strong."

"You must forgive my state," he wipes the sweat dripping from his temple, "an hour remains of our session, then I will be free to accompany you to the baker's today," he assures. He smiles but it quickly disappears as he adds, "after I wash and change, of course."

I press my lips tightly together, yet it does not contain my giggle.

Harwin crosses his arms at the sound, his own lips unable to contain his own giggle.

"I am in no hurry, commander," I clasp my hands together, "feel free to ignore me until you are ready."

He walks backward, "I pray you do not require me to do something impossible."

I chuckle at the sentiment, but I roll my eyes. I sit myself on a crate nearby and watch as the man instructs his pupils. He demonstrates the proper handling of a sword and strikes the dummy. For a moment, I think of Gwayne training.

Then suddenly, I remember our argument and find myself calling out, "break bones."

I watch as Harwin turns to me.

I flatten my skirts on my lap but do speak any further.

"You call, my lady?"

I straighten my back, slightly taken aback that he responded, and shake my head, "never mind."

Harwin does not think twice on it. He continues with his lesson.

Watching him teach was... titillating. His voice was rich and sure, his actions more so, and his demeanor was truly that of a commander. More and more, I thought of 'break bones' and continued to convince myself that this was not him. Soon, I was not enslaved to my thoughts and became thoroughly entertained by Harwin's instruction. It was almost a shame that the hour passed as quickly as it did.

Harwin quickly comes to me, announcing he will not take long to tidy up, then leaves just as quickly. Unable to help myself, I decide to ask a guard about this break bones fellow. Before I can even ask if that man was truly his commander, he's already droning about See Harwin Strong. Before he could finish, the said man was beside me, face and locks slightly damp.

Harwin and I make our way to the stables after and I immediately start, "I did not realize you had quite a reputation."

I watch my feet peak out from beneath my dress as we leisurely make our way to his steed. Harwin, with his hands behind him, turns to me with a quirked brow, "and what reputation might that be?"

"Breakbones," I look up.

He simply stares.

"I thought Gwayne thought it up to deter me from your companionship."

He purses his lip, "...does it?"

I give him an incredulous look, "perhaps if I had known it before I knew you. I was testing the name on you. I did not expect you to respond."

"Is it very ill-fitting?"

"Yes," I speak immediately. I tilt my head, "you are very gentle."

He laughs. It is quiet but hard enough that he must clutch his gut and take a moment to gather himself.

Though it was not like him to mock me, I could not help but feel perhaps that in this moment he was. A frown finds me.

I think of Gwayne and his condescending laughter. My chest tightens.

He breathes in deeply before finally calming. Harwin notices my dejected demeanor and it wipes the grin off his face, "forgive me. I laugh only because I have not yet been called gentle in earnest."

It does not rid my frown.

"It pleases me," he mutters.

I stop in my tracks when he reaches for my hand. My pulse quickens when he takes and lifts it.

"I am glad to appear as such to you," he speaks carefully, blue eyes locked on mine. He presses a chaste kiss at the back of my hand. He maintains his hold until we are in front of his horse.

Harwin helps me up the brown stallion. He maintains a respectable hold and even fixes my dress as I seat myself. I look down at him and his smile. I nod, indicating that he can now climb up.

He shakes his head, lips still curled upright, "I do not think it wise for me to ride with you today."

I furrow my brows, "why ever not?"

Harwin takes the reins of his horse, "well, I fear my hasty washing was not enough."

I roll my eyes, "I-"

"And I desire to uphold the gentle nature you recognize in me." Harwin begins to walk.

"I do not understand."

He snorts lightly, "I fear my softness will not remain if I ride behind you."

My brows only furrow deeper.

Harwin catches this and chuckles. He mumbles under his breath, "the lioness is but a kitten."

"I heard that."

He raises a hand, "a jest. An innocent jest."

I spent a good part of the afternoon scrutinizing cakes and frosting, meticulously ordering the perfect assortment to be delivered to me tomorrow.

By the time Harwin and I were back in the Keep, I could tell that he was worn, not only from being made a taste tester against his will, but also from walking back and forth.

Another image of Gwayne flashes in my mind. Guilt and dread threaten to spill from my lips.

Harwin helps me down his steed and softly smiles once I am stood before him. My heart stings at his drowsy expression. My forehead curls as I reach for his cheek, "you have been most patient and kind."

His face perks at my touch.

"I am most grateful," I brush his curls away from his face, "I would not have been able to accomplish what I have today without you."

Harwin straightens when I pull away, seemingly reinvigorated.

"Forgive me if my meticulousness cost us a longer trip than expected."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you award me more credit than I am due. It is an honor to witness the care you put into your gifts."

I watch him as he leads the horse into the stable. Harwin continues once he's walking back towards me, "I am sure Gwayne's nameday will be heartfelt, knowing his lady took great measures to prepare her gifts for him."

The thought makes me want to pull my hair out. I sigh and simply walk off.

Harwin's expression falls. He follows after me, "is something wrong?"

I watch my shoes peak from beneath my skirt with my steps. I turn to him when he calls me by my name. Harwin has a look of concern upon him. I comb the tips of my golden hair in agitation, "I... do not wish his nameday to come."

A line forms between his brows.

I sigh, "surely you are aware that my move to King's Landing was to secure myself a husband."

Harwin did, in fact, not know this, but does not have the chance to say so.

"My brother says the only house interested in me is that of the Tyrells."

His brows quirk. A doubtful thought.

"I did not..." I turn to the ground, "think my demeanor so odious that I am able to attract but one marriage proposal. Surely my family name weighs more than that."

The thought makes Harwin's forehead curl.

"I am not due to leave for Highgarden until the next moon, but I figured if it pleases Gwayne, I would set him free on his nameday. Another gift for him."

Harwin frowns, "do you not think your decision rash?"

"Rational, perhaps."

He does not seem to like my resolve on the matter, and yet he does not press any further. The rest of our walk is silent, and soon we are in the hall to my chambers.

Both Harwin and I slow at the sight of Gwyane standing attention at my door. He shifts in his spot, turning to us. When we reach him, I notice the way his jaw feathers.

The auburn haired man lifts his nose slightly, "Breakbones."

Harwin nods, "ser Hightower."

"How kind of you to return the lioness to her den," he turns to me, pale blue eyes ripping into my flesh, "I do hope she did not bare her teeth and claws too much."

Harwin raises a brow, "her company is most welcome, teeth and claw included."

I turn to Harwin. He smiles at me. Gwayne watches. His blood curdles.

"She tells me tomorrow is your nameday," Harwin looks to Gwayne, "what plans have you made to celebrate?"

"Whatever my lady has planned for me," he chuckles dryly. His begins to turn red in the face.

My brows furrow, "worry not, Gwayne. There shall be no errands to attend to on the morrow."

"How magnanimous," he smiles, or rather sneers, "your commander seems to need the day off. See how worn you've made him."

"Enough," I quip.

"Agreed," he blurts, "you should retire," he motions with his head, "I will treat the man to some wine," he turns to Harwin, "and perhaps he will the same, as a nameday treat."

Harwin nods, "perhaps on your nameday itself. I have an evening patrol I must cover."

Gwayne's nostrils flare, "unfortunate."

With that, I thank Harwin for accompanying me and head inside my chambers.

Gwayne places a hand on Harwin's shoulder, leading him down the hall, "I must express my appreciation for lightening my load as of late."

"My duty is to serve, but it is a pleasure to do so for the lady Lannister."

Gwayne pulls his hand away then brings both behind him, "I'm sure for one who is daily surrounded by sweaty men, it truly is."

Harwin does not respond. They continue walking down the hall.

"I am glad to know she did not forget my nameday and neither of us will need to be worked by her tomorrow."

Harwin gives a lopsided smile, "if it comes down to it, ser, I will do any work she may require of you in your stead."

Gwayne's face twitches but he expertly covers it up with a low chuckle, "oh, how good. Do not deny me then if it happens."

The two men part ways at the end of the hallway. Gwayne heads for his chambers, feeling irritated and suffocated. He bathes but it does not soothe him as much as he hoped. The next morning, he wakes up groggy and attempts to bathe it away, but the water was as ineffective as the night before.

He gets dressed and makes his way to the solar. He stops in his tracks when he hears the ruckus from inside. It doesn't take him long to recognize the voices, which is why he decides to enter and interrupt the argument taking place inside.

I gasp softly at the sound of the door opening. The sight of Gwayne's concerned expression only makes the tears from my eyes spill further.

Tyland turns to him. He does not mask his ire, which is why he does not greet him. My brother simply quips, "you will not leave her today."

Gwayne turns from my brother to me. It takes a moment before he realizes it was an order, "of course, my Lord."

The master of coin sighs and heads for the door. Before leaving, he raises a hand, "a servant will come to deliver your nameday gift tonight or tomorrow. Lannisport has been overflowing as of late, but I was assured your delivery will be swift."

Gwayne nods, "you have my thanks."

Tyland leaves after this, and Gwayne walks over to me.

I pull away before he can touch me. I lean towards the table and push the assortment of cakes towards him, "you will not need to steal my sweeties today, ser."

I walk towards the window, turning my back on him, uncomfortable with the idea of the man seeing me in disarray. He is insensitive to this and follows after me. I move away, but he does not relent.

"You need not tend to me!" I snap, strands of gold sticking to wet cheeks. I brush my hair away and helplessly point to the table, "there is a box on your chair. Tend to it! I have no use of you."

Gwayne pulls his head back. The sentiment stung, but he decides not to take offence. He cannot, not with the red eyes staring back at him. He decides to walk off and head for his usual chair.

Sure enough, a smallish wooden box tied in a red velvet bow rests on the cushion. He sets it down on the table before seating himself. He turns to me then back at the box. He undoes the bow and opens it. He stares at it. His silence reads to me as disinterest.

"Gloves. Practical but stylish," I walk towards him. He turns to me as I pull the chair beside him. I sit down, taking one glove and the hand it belonged to.

Gwyane spares a moment to watch the red leather be slipped on him hand, the rest of his moments are spent observing the tear laced lashes before him.

After buttoning the glove in his wrist, he stretches his fingers, opening his closing his hand to test the fit. His eyes do not leave me as he does so, "it fits me perfectly."

"As it should," I say, reaching for the other, "I paid the artisan well for this."

He grabs my hand just before I can do that with his. I stare at the veins that run past his sleeves, "I am exhilarated by the knowledge the shape of my hands are known by you."

My lips part.

Had it been any other day, had the circumstances been different, I would have received that statement with offence, for it was one of clear mockery. Yet, with how his dimples vaguely made an appearance and how his lips pressed softly into a smile, it seemed... genuine.

And it seemed to make my heart skip.

I mutter, "I stole a pair of your gloves and had it fitted."

Gwayne chuckles.

My heart skips again.

"Clever girl," he releases my hand and removes the glove I put on him. He takes the ribbon on the table then turns to my hair, "red goes well with gold, wouldn't you agree?"

"... my hair is already made."

"You would be glad to know that I am skilled in unmaking it," he pulls my chair closer to him.

My body burns as he reaches for my curls. My hair was braided by the sides in a fashion I quite enjoyed; I did not enjoy the idea of him unmaking it.

"-just as I am skilled in braiding," Gwayne adds.

I knit my brows at the idea.

"Do not look so shocked," he chuckles, "my sister has as much hair as you, and I did not enjoy how it flew to my face when we were children."

Before I can speak, he grabs my shoulders and turns me away. He gathers my hair and my skin pricks at the feel of his fingers against my nape.

He is silent when he begins. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of his light touch.

"I would braid Alicent's hair when she wept as well."

My eyes open. Oh.

"Thankfully, it was not a frequent occurrence."

I turn to my skirt.

"I do not tell you this to press you for answers," he softly clarifies, "merely to express how I think it comforted my sister... and how I wish to do the same for you."

I do not reply. My lips wobble.

"I was instructed not to leave your side today and I do not wish to add to whatever offense that could bring a lioness to tears."

I silently wipe my face.

Gwayne says nothing more after this, not until he finished braiding my hair.

He rests the braid on my shoulder. I inspect it, seeing he incorporated the ribbon into the pleats and even managed to make a small bow at the bottom. I look up at him. He frowns and reaches for my cheek, wiping my tears.

I take a deep breath to calm myself, "my brother received an offer for my hand."

Gwayne stills.

"Well," I turn to the box on the table, "he received multiple."

He leans on his elbow. He smiles, though against himself, "we came to King's Landing to find you a match, did we not?"

"It seems my brother has other plans," I mutter, "apparently Tyland means to use me as leverage for the crown. He wishes to wed me to the Tyrells so that he can have a firmer hold on Highgarden. Jason does not know this. He was led to believe I was simply going to King's Landing to purchase new dresses."

A line forms between his brows, "I presume Jason found out about Tyland's plot."

"Yes. Jason writes that I should put my dresses to good use and entertain any suitors that come to me whilst I am in King's Landing."

He nods curtly. He sighs and shrugs, "why the tears then? Does the idea of entertaining men upset you so?"

"..."

"..."

"... Tyland reminded me of what happened last time when I had many suitors at my beck and call."

Gwayne clenches his teeth. He rests his hand in front of me, "I swear on my life that no one will come close enough to take advantage of you again."

His hand itches to reach out, but he instead goes for the cakes, dragging it in front of him. He shoves a chocolate cake into his mouth and chews.

I watch him lick his lips. He notices how I lick mine. He speaks through a mouth half-full, "do not think I will share simply because you are sad."

I snort and roll my eyes. Gwayne is relieved this was the reaction he garnered.

"I had enough cake from tasting them with Harwin yesterday."

He stops chewing.

I notice the frosting on the corner of his lips and wipe it with my thumb, "enjoy your cakes."

Gwayne is perfectly still.

"Happy nameday."

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi. I'm going to send this ask to more than one blog because I want to check if I get different types of answers. (Please make sure this ask is anonymous) Do you have any advices for plurals how to clean / tidy your room/house and manage to not make it messy again? Important: nay tips for how to not regret getting rid of items you think aren't important now but still be able to get rid of many items to finally make your house clean?

🥔🥔🥔

Hello, this is an excellent question. Maintaining a clean living space can genuinely help improve and maintain positive mental health, but it can be challenging keeping up with these things as a system. We certainly do not keep our own home totally spotless, but here’s how we go about keeping our living space clean.

1) Chore Chart

We’ve made a list of all the chores we’d ideally like to get done, and assigned one or two chores to each day of the week. We’ll put a big chore list at the bottom of this post under a cut, so you can get some sort of idea about the amount of chores your system might need to do in order to keep your space tidy. Our own chore chart is written on a whiteboard left in our kitchen so we can see it every day.

2) Checklists

Many parts of our system are incredibly motivated by checklists. It feels amazing and productive to be able to check things off as you accomplish tasks. Individual chores can even be broken down into multiple steps so you can have more items to check off, if you’d like. Our chore chart mentioned above is in a checklist format, so parts can cross things off the list as they do them. If your system feels like a checklist might be useful, we cannot stress enough how incorporating a checklist into your routine might be beneficial.

3) Putting things away

This one is tough, particularly for the littles in our system, but putting things away when you’re done using them can have a huge impact on keeping your space clean. Things like:

- Hanging up coats and putting away shoes when you take them off

- Keeping dirty clothes in a bin or hamper

- Returning toys/art supplies/electronics/etc. to where they belong after using them

- Taking dishes, cups, and silverware to the sink/kitchen after eating or drinking

- Throwing away empty wrappers, broken things, and other trash items as you encounter them

And so on. This may be a difficult habit to get into, but if a few of your members who front in your home can commit to keeping this up, your whole system will start to feel the differences.

4) Divvying tasks

In all honesty, our system has a chores part who handles most of our housework. Soft likes it and it works for fluff. However, not every system has a specific headmate who handles or wants to complete domestic tasks. So dividing responsibilities among the willing members of your system can lighten everyone’s workload a bit. You can try making different charts or checklists for different headmates, or include those who want/are able to help out on any sort of chore chart or list you create.

Now, when it comes to getting rid of items… our system is POSIC, and can establish connections and relationships with all sorts of items which can make getting rid of them challenging. Still, this is a necessary part of life. Some things that have more or less worked for us are:

We’re not big minimalists, but we like Marie Kondo’s advice when it comes to getting rid of things to ask yourself: what sparks joy? If an item doesn’t spark joy for yourself or your headmates, consider getting rid of it. We like the idea of thanking the item for its service before letting it go.

We also have one alter who likes to take pictures of things before we get rid of them. Pup then makes little edits of them, pasting little digital stickers, and for us it works as a good way to keep items in our memory without keeping them around physically. This may be weird, but it works for us, so we thought might as well include it.

Also, donating items to thrift stores or charity causes may be easier and more fulfilling than flat-out throwing them away. In this way, you’re parting with items that can still find a good home with someone who could get more use out of it, and not sending a once treasured object off to a landfill.

Goodness, this post got quite long. We’ll go ahead and call it here so it doesn’t get even more carried away. We do hope that something here will be useful for your system. Good luck with keeping your home tidy in the future!

And here is a list of chores that might help you get a feel for how to create your own chore chart:

Kitchen

- Doing dishes

- Wiping countertops

- Scrubbing the sink

- Cleaning out the fridge and/or pantry

- Doing meal prep

Bedroom

- Making the bed

- Doing laundry (step one: gather clothes, step two: wash them, step three: dry them, step four: fold them, step five: put them away)

- Washing and changing out bedsheets

Bathroom

- Scrubbing the toilet

- Scrubbing the sink

- Scrubbing the shower or bathtub

- Washing the mirror

Misc/Any Room

- Sweeping

- Vacuuming

- Dusting

- Mopping

- Washing windows

- Putting away anything that isn’t where it belongs

We hope you and your system can brainstorm to figure out what chores will benefit your home life best. Again, good luck with your endeavors to maintain a clean space going forward!

[badlydrawnkaisatou]

So what are your thoughts on raccoons, yay or nay? Do you live your life in support of their small raccoonish endeavors or do you dread the day they inevitably use their tiny little people hands for evil and sneak inside houses to carry away all of the silverware?

Though they pose a bit of a threat to local ecosystems as a result of human interference, they are... funny. And... cute.

[royalreef]

@yog-shagal​ || Continued from here

      Oh, oh that got under Miranda’s osteoderm-covered skin. For a moment she had humored the thought of making some excuse about the sunglasses, to justify it to Zoe and further hide in denial as of what was happening, as Miranda loved doing that so much --- but the audacity! The sheer nerve of Zoe to claim that Miri would ever so much as touch a plastic utensil, generic and mass-produced to satiate the need to eat! Versus her immaculately cared for, perfect collection of silverware, each use and history and legacy lovingly dedicated to memory! Did Zoe think her an animal? Did she not hear Miranda’s long tirades to effectively anyone who would listen as to all the unique properties of each and every tong on each and every salad fork?

      For the new, sudden peak of shame and fear of some vast unknown that she had become, that was definitely still Miranda.

     Still Miranda, who wouldn’t stand for even the slightest offense against what she prided herself in.

      Fins flared as dramatically as they could, with such an indignant expression that Zoe may as well have insulted Miranda’s very own mother ( since insulting her father was a far more complicated affair, as will happen when said person is still alive and she actually has a history of knowing him - even though Miranda would never openly admit it, even to herself ).

      “Plastic forks? You insult me with the offer of plastic forks? The very forks which they stock at this school to be used by just anyone, for whatever purpose, totally and wholly meant for whatever crime against all good taste is served within the cafeteria upon this day?? Those forks?!?” Maybe Miranda’s harsh tone and her shift in posture would’ve been actually intimidating if she were in one of her ordinary outfits, showing all her strict cruelty as Crown Princess, but... As it was, she just looked like a particularly fluffy mound of adorable hatred. The fact that Miranda was known for throwing these kind of fits even with their other friends just further helped take the teeth out of the whole affair. It could be fun to piss Miranda off this much, after all.

      “I cannot believe my classmate, companion, and inferior would even so much as utter such disgraceful terms, right in front of my face! Where I can hear it, nay, see it! My kingdom has eradicated entire bloodlines for less!!!!”

[dust2dust34]

(i will be the fire) that keeps you warm (2/5, Olicity, AU)

Summary: With Artie’s help, Oliver and Felicity get a little closer.

A/N: The response to this story has been incredible! Thank you so much!

(read on AO3)

(read from beginning)

*

A blur of dog greeted Felicity when she opened the door to Queen Manor.

“Artie!”

She dropped her purse and jacket on the ground and stooped down, scratching the slobbering face of her pit bull. The growing puppy was all energy and grins, her tongue hanging out as Felicity smooshed her face all over with cooing noises that fill the anteroom of the house.

“Who’s my big girl?” Felicity scratched Artemis all over. A low growly hum emitted from the dog as Felicity got into her sides, rubbing all over her beautiful blue-grey fur. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff right there. We need all the lovin’s, don’t we? Because we never get any, not ever. Nope, not even from that grumpy landlord of ours who insists he doesn’t care. But he does, doesn’t he? Oh yes he does because here you are, not in my room but greeting me at the front door as the best welcoming committee ever.”

Artie leaned her full body weight into Felicity’s legs, nearly knocking her down. Felicity laughed, kissing Artie all over her face before standing.

The most delicious smell hovered in the air and Felicity inhaled it greedily.

“Yes,” she said, grabbing her stuff off the floor and hurrying to the kitchen. “Are we finally going to see the magical human who leaves food for us? Well, not us so much as me, but you get to enjoy the smells and they’re almost as good.”

Felicity followed the clinks and clanks of pots and silverware, the smells somehow getting better. She wasn’t sure how, but proximity was definitely a thing.

She breezed through the swing door. “God, that smells amazing.”

Broad shoulders she instantly recognized had her jerking to a stop. Her astonishment doubled - nay, quadrupled - when Oliver Queen himself turned to glance back at her with a soft, “Thank you.”

“You cook?” Felicity demanded, dumping her stuff on the kitchen table and sidling up next to him. “This entire time, all the food that appears in here, that’s been you?”

Oliver shrugged, stirring some sort of heavenly-smelling sauce. “It gives me something to focus on.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Felicity told him as she snagged something roasted and vegetable-like from a pan nearby. He moved to smack her hand, but she got the pepper in her mouth before he could and gave him a huge smile. “For selfish reasons, of course,” she added. “I am glad you have something to focus on, but also, everything you cook is incredible and for someone who can only claim to be a culinary microwave expert, I appreciate it. A lot. I don’t think you realize the good deed you are doing. These are real nutrients instead of the chemically-induced messes of whatever pre-packaged thing I’d make. Thank you.”

Felicity grabbed his shoulder for leverage and pushed onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

It stunned her as much as him. She fell back to her feet, her lips tingling from his stubble. It was unbelievably soft.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the sauce with a low, “I’m glad.”

Felicity’s eyes danced over his profile, noting the deeper color in his cheeks. She knew it was the heat of the kitchen making him flush and not her. But oh to dream.

And dream she did.

Which was so not a thing she should be thinking about right now with the ghost of her lips on his cheek taunting her.

She absently licked them just as Oliver glanced over to catch her still staring at him.

His gaze nailed her in place, narrowing just enough to ignite a needy tug deep inside her. Her fingers dug into his shoulder on reflex as her heart slammed into the ground. Oh, this was…

This was her landlord.

“Was Artemis good while I was out?” Felicity asked loudly - too loudly - as she quickly turned away.

“She always is,” Oliver replied from behind her. His voice was loud enough she knew he had turned to face her. She also knew that the burn in the middle of her back was totally her imagination and not his eyes on her.

“I know she loves hanging out with you instead of being cooped up in my room,” Felicity told him, scrunching her nose up at the puppy in question. “Don’t you? Yes, you do, oh yes you do.”

She didn’t even think as she wiggled her entire body in a way that had Artie’s entire body excitedly wiggling in return. She laughed and looked back to see if Oliver had seen it. He wasn’t looking at Artie, though. His eyes were on her. Her chest rolled, the little tug in the pit of her stomach going further down. It was over as soon as it started, though, and Oliver spun back to the stove.

The air was somehow more charged now.

“I like the company,” he offered.

“Do you hear that?” Felicity asked the dog. If her voice was a little rougher, well, it was because she was thirsty. Not for water. Ignoring her brain, Felicity made her way to the french double doors that opened into the enormous backyard. “He likes your company. But who wouldn’t with that adorable face?” She opened one and Artemis took off in a blast, leaving some hair lingering in the air behind her. Felicity laughed, watching the dog tear across the large backyard. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder to Oliver, even though her eyes never left Artemis. “It means a lot knowing someone is here who doesn’t just think she’s an annoyance.”

“She’s far too cute to be an annoyance.”

“So does that mean you like her now?” Felicity teased, glancing back at him.

She caught enough of his profile to see him rolling his lips together in an attempt to fight a smile.

He didn’t smile often, this man. He had more demons than anyone she had ever met, and oh she’d met a few. But none of them were quite like Oliver Queen. In the keep-my-personal-horrors-buried-as-deep-as-possible aspect, and in others. Many others. Like cooking, apparently, and keeping his door open for Artemis at night now instead of making her crawl through the mucky corridor connecting their rooms. And that every once in a great while, he gifted Felicity with a grin, even if made him grimace, like he’d forgotten what it was like. And she wasn’t above mentioning the absolutely killer muscles he sported. He didn’t look like he ate any of the food he made. If he did, he’d have a little belly like the one she was starting to get. But not him. She was willing to bet a million dollars that his abs were the kind of abs people wrote about in romance novels.

They were that good and she didn’t even have to see them.

“It should be ready in about twenty minutes,” Oliver offered, looking back at her.

He caught her staring and with a start, her eyes flew to his. Felicity opened her mouth to say something - anything, oh my god - to divert the attention away from her stupid wandering eyes. But then her gaze caught on his. It seared right through her. The once-flat blue that she was certain mirrored his dislike of her were now a deep molten cerulean.

Heat licked at her, tugged at her core, flooded her veins.

Neither of them moved.

His eyes dropped to her lips.

The air sucked out of the room, instantly replaced with a blazing awareness that made her mouth dry and her breasts grow hot and heavy under her t-shirt.

A yelp broke the moment.

Felicity’s head whipped to the backyard to find Artie limping towards her.

“Oh no,” she gasped and darted out to meet her. “Oh, what happened?” It took her a second to realize Oliver was right on her heels, catching up in the blink of an eye and reaching Artie at the same time she did. Whimpers escaped the pit bull as she fell over onto her side, her luminous silver eyes staring up at Felicity, pain creasing her little face. “What’d you do, what happened?” Felicity asked her again and the puppy answered by going for her back paw. Her very bloodied back paw. Felicity hissed. Bright red smeared her once-grey coat. A little pink tongue swipe it away, but more oozed to the surface. So much more. Her stomach turned. “Let me look,” Felicity urged, pushing Artie’s face away just enough to see where the blood was coming from. She gingerly picked the paw up and spread her little toes to see she’d cut through the webbing there. “Oh Artie.”

Blood flooded the cut, coating Felicity’s hand and Artie’s paw. With a whine and a desperate look in her eyes, Artemis arched back to get the paw back into her mouth, but Felicity stopped her. She didn’t like that one bit and tried harder with a pathetic sounding growl, her little puppy teeth nipping at Felicity’s hand.

“No, trust me, you don’t want to do that, baby girl,” Felicity told her, and it was only now that she heard the beginnings of a tremor in her voice. Her dog was hurt. Something had hurt her dog. “How did this happen? Is the grass made of razors, or did… did someone leave something out here? I’ll kill them. Right after I help you. I don’t know how to help you. What… We need to go to the vet. Do they take walk-ins? I don’t know, I don’t even know their number. How do I not know their number? We were just there, weren’t we? I need their number!”

“Easy.” The order came out in a soft, unassuming voice, but the authority in it was undeniable. Oliver’s large hand smoothed across Felicity’s back. It helped. It grounded her. He grounded her. She watched him tug his shirt off. “Here we go,” he crooned to the puppy. He took the paw from Felicity and gently wrapped it. “That’ll keep you away from it for a minute.”

“Thank you,” Felicity said. She blinked away a sudden burst of tears and let out an uneven bark of laughter. “Wow, this is more intense than I thought it would be. Artie getting hurt, I mean. I just… I didn’t think I’d be so… weepy.”

“Your little girl’s hurt,” Oliver replied, giving her a gentle smile. It somehow both calmed her down and made her heart flip-flop a couple dozen times. “It’s overwhelming. Come on, the cut looked pretty bad, you should take her in.”

“Yeah. Yes. I will. Right now.”

Oliver bundled Artie into his arms and stood up.

Felicity followed after a beat, stealing the moment to take a deep breath before standing on oddly shaky feet.

When she turned to follow, she couldn’t hide the horrified gasp that escaped her. 

Oliver’s back was covered in scars. Some old, some still a little pink. There were ragged holes like he’d been shot, and there were long, willowy tendrils. From a whip, her mind supplied. Her eyes burned with another reason entirely at the sight. Smaller scars littered the rest of him, twisting and turning, some deep and ugly as if they had never healed right while others had to catch the sunlight to be seen. But the worst one was across his lower back, a burn scar that walked all the way across his skin, thick and mottled. When she managed to tear her eyes away from it, she noticed the faint outline of what looked like a dragon tattoo on his left shoulder blade.

He stiffened.

Tension turned his shoulders into the brick wall she knew so well, his muscles tightening up.

Her shock wore off barely a second later, but it was enough time to widen the emotional distance between them. In the blink of an eye, all that ground she’d fought tooth and nail for over the last two weeks morphed back into the barren landscape she encountered when she first applied to live in his house.

“Oliver…”

He turned to her, face blank, eyes flat, even under the blinding sun. Felicity’s eyes unwittingly dropped to his chest - more scars, more tattoos. God, what had happened to him? Her jaw dropped to ask that very question, but then he was coming back towards her. His face wasn’t blank any longer. No, it was taut with a fury she’d never seen before, all of it edged with shame and…

Sadness.

Without a word, Oliver handed Artie over to her and turned, getting away from her as fast as possible and she did nothing more than watch him until he was gone.

Felicity had no idea how long she stood there.

Too long, considering she had a bleeding dog in her arms. But her feet had melted into the grass, anchoring her in place, staring at where Oliver had just disappeared.

She thought she’d had an idea, about what he’d gone through, but she was wrong. So wrong.

And she’d made him feel bad about it.

Tears filled her eyes again only to vanish in a blink when Artemis wiggled in her arms.

It propelled Felicity forward, and with a nod, she shoved the moment down, focusing on her puppy.

“Yep, we’re going,” she told the dog, ignoring her still-shaking voice. “Right to the vet.”

*

Part 3 will be up tomorrow!

Thank you for reading!! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse. 

(Ko-fi is awesome too!)

[witchesalleyway]

Never-Hollows Of Horrors. A Slightly Inaccurate Grimoire Crafted By && For Witchlings && Wizarducks of every background.

Chapter 1. Ancestors Knockin' On My Doors.

In order for one to physically see the treacherous hollowing and moaning wallowing sounds of the spirit one must first prepare.

First a dish. One to entice and allure any wary haunting. Most want their food cold, as I have found, in their frenzy rush, that often tongues will get burnt if served straight away. However if offered alcohol, be it the spicy kinds. That seems to be the type of drink that sits well going down. And never forget to bring dessert. It is just good table manners.

If you forget a dish don't fret quite yet. Though the stomach rumbling will intermingle with the regular wailing that these ghosts make. Just don't expect to get any favors or wishes after. Before they take to stomping out, decide to play some music. That being. The second step.

You're going to want to play something from their Era. It will remind their hearts of old homes. However, given you bring up bad memories, you have lost your guests. Usually jazz is a good choice.

Have you forgotten your table manners already? Keep those sharp elbows off the table and observe step three. Given you have no food to serve and no music to offer you will be left to your own devices. That being speech. Communications with somebody who is already irritated by the lack of what a good host should offer will be tough at first, but not impossible. Can you pronounce your A's, B's and C's quite clearly? Good. Making sure you sound adequate enough to talk to somebody is the first way to making sure you are observed. All you have to do now is bring up a topic of conversation!

Which brings us on to step four. Conversation Toppers. Words, words, words. Poets and scholars have used words to astound and amaze a many of good guests. Now – My Dear Poet! - It is your turn! Keep the conversation light at first. Asking Aunt Mary why and how she died in 1600 Renaissance is not advised towards making friends! She will NOT be amused! Always allow room for another to speak before you.

Use the following example as such;

“Hello, Uncle Rogerick! I am sorry I have not contacted you sooner! How is the rest of the family doing?”

Take this moment to allow him to pour out into his answer! Ask additional questions to what he brings up! REMEMBER he is the guest in your house. You must show your guest the proper respects and honors that any well respected house would give. Now, that doesn't mean you have to allow him to kick his feet up!

Which makes our way on to step five. When a guest bites off more than they can chew – and that's not part of YOUR stew!  Perhaps your guest has become unruly and restless. Perhaps they have taken to lazily throwing the silverware, or putting drinks down where costars are needed. You can tell that they have taken advantage of the situation. This, unless you have a too comfortable Grandma, will usually only happen amongst those undead that you aren't related to. But we will kindly keep an eye on Grandma for you as well. Mannerisms are still offered here! Sometimes shooing them out with a gentle nudge is the best route for any practical Witch or Wizard! However, not all guests act in kindness back to our gesture...

So finally we find ourselves at step six. Don't be a bitch kick out that little hitch. Hitchhikers are well known for sticking out their thumbs and hitching a ride with any stranger that shares with them a passing glance. For the best of circumstances you are to ignore them. But if, one were to say, they could easily jump into your car without harm and greet you still with a friendly 'hey' would you still let them stay? Nay! I want you to throw the salt – my dear Poet – I want you to throw that table salt so fast across their vision that they forget to blink! This is where mannerisms can be neglected and often are. This act will most certainly spook out the ghost and send them packing!

[chicagocryptid]

So what are your thoughts on raccoons, yay or nay? Do you live your life in support of their small raccoonish endeavors or do you dread the day they inevitably use their tiny little people hands for evil and sneak inside houses to carry away all of the silverware?

hate their people hands but I love raccoons over all. would love to be one someday.

[ororowrites]

“42 Reasons: Chadwick x OC: Chapter Two

Author’s note: I apologize for the long wait! Life catches up with us sometimes, I guess. I should be back on track now. Here are the previous chapters in case you need to re-read:

Synopsis - Introduction-Chapter One 

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety 

Two Weeks Later 

Atlanta would be Holly’s home for the next several months. Filming would begin in the next couple of weeks after their table reads and screen tests. She was still in shock and nothing had completely set in for her about her new endeavors. Fans did not know what they were about to receive and Holly was under lock and key when it came to her new job. She wasn’t even allowed to share the news with close friends or family until Marvel officially announced the cast for the Black Panther sequel. 

Holly was glad she at least knew Chadwick and had someone to lean on once they began the filming process. She had met some of the other cast members in passing but did not have a relationship with most of them. 

Her first day in Atlanta consisted of getting settled in her new apartment that Marvel was renting. Attempting to make it feel like home, Holly sent for some of her furniture and items that made her space feel warm and comfortable. While hanging some of her art, her elevator bell rang, signaling a guest. 

“Who is it,” Holly pressed the call button and spoke into the mic. 

“Take a guess,” a voice called back. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Denzel , Will...” Holly joked, beaming from ear to ear without even noticing. 

“Even better. Now open up unless you want me to keep all this chicken and waffles to myself,” the voice replied back. Holly could hear his grin through the door and ran to buzz him inside. 

“Chad, you know I don’t play with my food. Come in,” the actress buzzed, waiting for the doors to open before she snatched the greasy bags from Chad’s hands. 

“Knew that would get your greedy behind to the door,” Chadwick chuckled, placing a kiss on Holly’s cheek and helping her sort out their meals. The simple act seemed very natural, though Holly’s breath hitched in her throat when his lips touched her skin. 

“Thank you. You came right on time, I’m starving,” Holly said gracefully moving around the space to find plates and silverware. 

“Lucky you. This will probably be your last unhealthy meal until after the film,” he replied. 

“Says who,” the actress quizzed, cocking her head to the side. 

“Says me,” Chadwick winked. “I can even hook you up with my trainer. He kicks my ass but he’s good. That’s if you want to use him.” 

Holly grinned, “You calling me out of shape, Boseman? I’ve been boxing for the last few months. You need to watch what you say to me.” 

The two friends shared a laugh before Chadwick answered, “No, I’m not saying you’re out of shape. Just offering some fight training. Since we’ll probably by fighting side by side.” 

Holly took the clue right away. “Say you want to spend time with me. Geez,” the actress teased, honestly honored by the generous offer. This was one of the things she adored about Chadwick. He had a big heart and when he truly cared about you, he didn’t hesitate to show it. His warmth and gentle spirit made him even more attractive and made him a people magnet. Anyone that spent time around him commented on his humbleness. 

“That makes it a win-win situation. You get training and time with Chadwick. This offer is only on the table for 24 hours,” he beamed, impatiently waiting on an answer. 

“Yes, I’ll kick you ass, I mean, I’ll train with you. But if I die, you’re responsible. Got it,” Holly threatened, pointing her fork in Chadwick’s direction. 

Her co-star held his hands up in fake surrender, “Alright, deal.” 

“Let me get this last cheat meal in before you torture me,” Holly complained biting into a crispy chicken wing. “I’m going to miss you baby chicken wing. Mr. Boseman is a big meanie and will take away all my meat and put me on this wack diet. I’m sorry.” 

The Black Panther star’s boisterous laughter filled the semi-empty living room, echoing off the walls. “Leave me alone,” he said through cackles. 

Becoming tickled herself, Holly snickered until tears spilled over. 

A week later 

The process of becoming Ororo Munroe was not an easy task to take on for an actress. Ryan Coogler, the sequel’s director was very serious about presenting accurate representation of different African cultures, accents, traditions and even clothing. He traveled the continent soaking up as much knowledge as he could manage. Holly respected his drive and knew she would have to work extra hard to make his vision come to life. 

As soon as Holly got the word that she would be playing Storm, she began her own research journey in an attempt to become well versed on different cultures on the continent. She didn’t want to be ignorant about what she was getting herself into and that served as motivation to study and learn. Wanting to know her own background, Holly ordered a DNA kit to study her lineage. 

Today, the cast was meeting for their last chemistry tests. Ryan did not put up with complacency. He wanted his actors to always better themselves and strive to be more. Holly and Chadwick were up first since they were the leads in the next film. The acting pair began with Ororo and T’Challa’s third scene that took place in a Harlem apartment. 

“Aight, we’ll start on page 3 and go through page 4,” Ryan called out to his actors. They followed orders and turned their scripts to the 3rd page of the second act. “Annnd, action.” 

“Ororo, come back to Wakanda with me,” Chadwick began, getting into characters immediately. 

“I have a life here. I can’t pick up and go,” Holly read, trying a new voice for her character. Ryan didn’t seem to mind the change as he knew the perfect fit for Ororo Munroe would take practice.

“Your life hasn’t always been here,” he continued, moving in closer. “I don’t think you want it to remain here.” 

“What makes you think that,”Holly said, her eyes meeting Chadwick’s as she took on Ororo’s quiet sex appeal. 

Closing the space left between them, Chadwick placed a hand on her cheek. Moving his face closer like the script demanded, “You aren’t happy and you’re running.”

Even though it was just acting, Holly somehow felt the double meaning in Chadwick’s words. This was the exact situation  that got them in trouble while filming ‘42′. Things got too real and it made separating reel from real difficult. When Chadwick became a character his entire being changed. The only problem was, T’Challa and Ororo could be interchangeable with Chadwick and Hoilly, which complicated things. 

“I’m not running from anything,” the actress whispered, feeling the heat from Chadwick’s body engulf her space. Their lips touched as they both juggled their acting and attraction. When their lips connected, Holly tried to stay in character but her mind drifted. His lips felt soft and warm against hers and she couldn’t shake the butterflies forming in her stomach. When he pulled away her lips were still parted. 

“Cut! Nice job, the chemistry is exactly where I need it to be,” Ryan complimented. “But...you have to tone it down a lil.” 

Chadwick and Holly chuckled, “Sorry,” Holly blushed, taking the hint that their onscreen kiss was a little too hot for a Marvel film. “Gotta do it for the kids.” 

“Hey, that was all you,” Chadwick laughed, wrapping an arm around Holly’s shoulders. “Chill out, Raye.”

“Dude, hush.” Going back and forth with each other, the two leads caught the eyes of a few of their cast mates. Their old romance began the same way. Without either of them noticing until things became too heavy to ignore. Cast mates and crew saw the small interactions and felt the chemistry. Some even teasing them occasionally. Now they had come full circle, only to repeat what had began years ago. 

The Black Panther sequel was officially in production and Holly’s nerves couldn’t have bothered her enough. With this being her first gig in years after the scandal on her previous job. 

Holly had to wake up at 2 AM for hair and makeup that would take more than a couple of hours to perfect. Like many trailers, the space was full of makeup products neatly organized against one wall and hair products on the other side. In between there were different variations of wig glues, eyelash glue and a few random items like stress balls and a bag of licorice. It looked like any other makeup trailer on a set but the vibe was different. 

Tiffany and Nadine Landry were a sister duo who had been working in the business for years. They made anyone who sat in their chairs feel like family which was one of the main reasons Ryan and crew wanted to keep them around. Their positive energy and talent to match spread throughout the cast and crew, contributing to the mass success of the first film. 

Holly was greeted by the sisters with a warm embrace and jokes. “We are here to make you the best Ororo Munroe that Marvel has ever seen,” Nadine said, gently pushing Holly towards Tiffany’s chair. 

“Nay, that was shady. Be nice,” Tiffany answered, calling her big sister out on the obvious shade to the previous Storm before the Disney deal was completed. “Don’t mind her Holly, she’s a mess but your face will be beat after you leave her chair.” 

“I trust you two. Besides, you have Ryan and Kevin to answer to if I walk out of here looking like a BAPS reject.” All three women slapped hands in laughter. 

The actress relaxed into the chair as Tiffany massaged her scalp, loosening the thick curls towards the crown of Holly’s head. 

Five hours and many looks later, the team had finally completed the new Ororo Munroe. The original hair and makeup options got trashed once Tiffany and Nadine slightly altered their initial plan for Holly. 

They settled on a straight, mid-back length wig and a neutral makeup palette that didn’t overpower the blue contacts and white wig.  

The big reveal came when Chadwick was brought into the trailer to see his co-star who had completely been transformed into the future Queen of Wakanda. 

When he stepped into the trailer, the actor’s laughter filled the small space as his excitement grew. Clapping his hands, his smile spread from ear to ear. “Look at you,” he exclaimed, gazing in awe. She was beautiful on any day, but there was a certain glow and confidence she was giving off. 

“Do I look good enough to be your Queen, T’Challa,” Holly teased dramatically, flipping her white locs. 

“You may outdo me in my own movie. Ya’ll trying to make me look bad,” Chadwick accused. 

“She makes it easy,” Nadine added, squeezing Holly’s shoulders, “She slays naturally. Sorry Chad.” 

Chadwick’s toothy grin widened. “Clearly.” His eyes fell to Holly, their gazes holding each other longer than they should. Look away, look away, Holly’s mind screamed, but her hormones were already betraying her. Those eyes were captivating and she couldn’t look away until Tiffany and Nadine interrupted. 

“Alright, out you go, Boseman. We need to finish her up before set call,” Tiffany gently pushed the actor towards the trailer door. “You can admire her when we send her out for your first scene.” 

Holly chuckled when Chadwick complained about how he was being treated by the crew. “That man is something else,” the actress shook her head.

“That man is feeling you,” Tiffany sang lowly but loud enough for Holly to hear. Today, she decided to ignore the truth and waited for the subject to change. Here we go, she thought. 

Later that day, when Holly had a small break in her schedule, she was faced with a situation and person she thought she had escaped. One of the old executives from the network she worked under years ago, was making a set visit. Supposedly, he was working for Marvel Studios under the same position. Holly’s stomach immediately dropped to her feet. There was no where to running, forcing the actress to face her fears in panic. Feeling helpless, Holly took off towards her trailer, praying no one saw the tears streaking her cheeks. 

Slamming the trailer door shut, Holly tried to take a few deep breaths. Ben Wiseman was a person she wanted to avoid for the rest of her life. He was responsible for a very dark time in her life and career, driving her to almost end it all to escape the pain. Ben was a Devil in a fancy suit and charming smile. Power and money made him untouchable and people flocked to him because of his title and reputation in the industry. Holly knew the man behind the suit and it put great fear in her heart that he’d been working right under her nose. 

The air in the trailer thickened causing the actress to take shorter breaths, making her panic more due to the heaviness of her chest. Over the last several months, Holly was able to keep her panic attacks to a minimum. After enrolling in yoga/meditation classes, she was able to learn different techniques to manage her stress. Counting to ten in her head Holly attempted to control her breathing and put her mind and spirit in a more positive realm. 

It took Holly 20 minutes to get back into a good place and for her breathing to calm. Going back outside meant risking running into Ben, though there was no way to avoid him. She gave herself a pep talk, prayed and dried her eyes before leaving the trailer. 

“There you are,” Chadwick said, walking up to the trailer with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Figured you’d need a little pick me up before we head back. Hey, you alright?” 

Worry was written all over Holly’s face, though she nodded with a fake smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Fell asleep in my trailer and woke up a bit confused.” 

“You sure, looks like you’ve been crying,” Chadwick pressed, holding the foam cup in her direction. 

“I’m sure, geez,” Holly faked laughter, doing a terrible job of hiding the pain in her voice. 

Chadwick was not buying her act and wasn’t going to allow his friend to go on with her day without getting to the bottom of this. “Raye,” he replied, his tone serious. Holly hung her head in defeat. “You want to go somewhere and talk? We have a few minutes before call.” Holding out his hand, Chadwick waited for Holly to accept it before leading her back to the trailer. 

I will begin working on the next chapter tomorrow, so it won’t be another month until I post again. lol Let me know of you want to be added to the taglist. 

Taglist: @wakanda-shit-is-that @lavitabella87 @destinio1 @airis-paris14 @babygirlofwakanda @siriuslycollins

[kappavision]

An authentic 17th century Valletta palazzo that has been restored into a boutique hotel. Yay or nay? The building dates back to 1606, making it one of the earliest private homes to be built in the city and notably home to the illustrious night Claude LeBrun. The LeBrun name became famous for silverware and coin mintage in the 18th century. In 1905 the building was leased out to the Borg Oliver family, becoming the childhood home of Malta's first Independence Prime Minister, George Borg Olivier, whose father, an architect, extended the house by building a bridge on the second floor over Eagle Street to be used as a private chapel. PALAIS LEBRUN Built in beautiful Baroque architecture, Palais LeBrun in Old Bakery Street has been recently renovated and restored into a luxury boutique hotel without sacrificing its characterful features. The building spans over 2,000 square metres and comprises 28 luxury rooms, a rooftop terrace with pool deck, as well as a fitness centre. This palace, which offers luxury, comfort, modernity and traditional 17th century Maltese architecture, is a true invitation for those wishing to travel in another way, a way that allows them to live at the heart of the Maltese city life in style. MORE ABOUT THE PALAZZO’S HISTORY In the early 1700s the palace became home to 'The Illustrious Knight Claude LeBrun', and was later handed down to Giuseppe LeBrun and Giacchino LeBrun, both of whom held the honour of being Masters of the Mint of the Order. During these years the LeBrun name became famous for silverware and coin mintage. The owners of the new boutique hotel acquired their mark, which today they have developed into their hotel logo. And as mentioned before, in 1905 the building was leased out to the Borg Oliver family. The palace was restored in 2018. (at Valletta, Malta) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcQCBgIsPJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[xoidua]

[Stoicism] - Dịch Seneca (5): Về ý nghĩa và cách tiếp cận triết học

Lời tựa:

Như đã giới thiệu trong series, Seneca thực sự là nguồn cảm hứng Stoicism của mình. Đọc Seneca không chỉ là về triết học mà còn là một trải nghiệm nghệ thuật, khi những bài học, triết lý quan trọng được phản ánh qua những hình ảnh quen thuộc, bình dị và đời thường, thể hiện cái tinh tế trong quan sát của một thiên tài với sự từng trải của cuộc đời.   Với hy vọng giới thiệu Stoicism đến với các bạn trẻ Việt Nam, xin gửi tới các bạn bản dịch những bức thư quan trọng nhất trong cuốn "Moral Letters to Lucilius", tác phẩm đã làm nên tên tuổi của Seneca và là một trong bộ ba cuốn sách nền tảng của Stoicism.   Do không phải anh dịch thuật, nên bản dịch này hoàn toàn tập trung vào việc truyền tải thông điệp và hy vọng có thể giúp bạn cảm thấy dễ dàng hơn trong việc tiếp cận với bản tiếng Anh, để có thể thấy cái hay cái đẹp trong việc sử dụng ngôn từ của Seneca (dù thực ra bản tiếng Anh cũng chỉ là một bản dịch). Một anh bạn người Ý của mình đã chia sẻ Seneca được đưa vào chương trình giảng dạy tại Ý như một bậc thầy về việc sử dụng ngôn từ. Vì vậy, xin cam đoan tất cả những gì khiến bạn cảm thấy trúc trắc từ bản dịch là bởi khả năng hạn chế của mình, và rất mong nhận được đóng góp của các cao nhân để bản dịch được hoàn thiện hơn. Sau khi hoàn thành mình sẽ tạo file pdf và chia sẻ free cho mọi người.

Bạn có thể đọc trước giới thiệu về Seneca ở đây:

Stoicism P5: Seneca - K phải thánh, chắc chắn, nhưng cũng phải đến mức thánh nhân! Bài viết gửi bởi Andy Luong trong mục Khoa học - Công nghệadreamer.spiderum.com

Bức thư số 5:

Bạn thân mến!

Bạn đang rất nghiêm túc với nhiệm vụ của mình, quên hết mọi thứ khác và chú tâm vào 1 mục đích duy nhất: khiến bản thân trở nên tốt hơn mỗi ngày. Một lựa chọn cực kỳ đúng đắn, và chính tôi cũng đang cố gắng theo đuổi mục tiêu ấy.

Nhưng, có một điều tôi cần nhắc lại, hay chính xác hơn là phải cảnh báo bạn. Có những người mà mục đích chính lại là thu hút sự chú ý thay vì thực sự rèn luyện bản thân. Đừng như họ, đừng chỉ thay đổi trang phục hay cách sống chỉ để thu hút sự chú ý của đám đông và được nổi tiếng. Những bộ quần áo quá giản dị đến bẩn thỉu, râu tóc dài và rậm rạp (triết gia ngày xưa hay nuôi râu), mở mồm ra là thù ghét giàu sang phú quý, xong bày nệm rơm trên sàn, tất cả những thứ đó, hay bất cứ dấu hiệu tiêu cực nào khác của một sự đày đọa bản thân là những thứ có lẽ tốt hơn ta nên tránh.

Cái từ "Triết học" tự nó đã khiến mọi người ngần ngại rồi, dù cho ta có dùng nó giản dị thế nào đi chăng nữa. Vậy bạn thử nghĩ xem sẽ thế nào nếu ta còn tự tạo ra sự khác biệt với cách cư xử thông thường của mọi người? Bên trong (ý chỉ tâm trí), hãy để ta hoàn toàn khác biệt, nhưng bề ngoài nên tránh tất cả những "show off" không cần thiết. Quần áo ta mặc không nên LV Chanel, nhưng cũng đừng xấu xấu bẩn bẩn. Ta không nên sở hữu quá nhiều vàng bạc, nhưng cũng đừng cho rằng việc không có vàng bạc là dấu hiệu của đức tính cần kiệm của tự nhiên. Nên nhớ ta đang hướng đến một cuộc sống tốt đẹp hơn, chứ không phải là cuộc sống trái ngược với bình thường. Nếu không, ta sẽ khiến chính những người mà ta muốn cảm hóa rời xa ta, vì họ không muốn sẽ trở nên giống ta một chút nào. Điều cốt yếu đầu tiên mà triết học hướng tới, đó là cảm giác của một cá nhân mong muốn được sống và hòa hợp với cộng đồng. Nếu ta không cẩn thận, chính điều đáng ra có thể khiến ta được ngưỡng mộ lại có thể trở thành điều khiến ta bị mỉa mai và căm ghét.

Mục đích của ta là sống theo tự nhiên, đúng không? Việc đày đọa bản thân (ví dụ như dừng hẳn việc tắm rửa và làm sạch sẽ thân thể, tự khiến mình trở nên bẩn thỉu, ăn thức ăn không những rẻ mà còn ôi thiu), thực ra nếu xem xét kỹ, là đi ngược với tự nhiên. Mù quáng chạy theo những thói xa hoa là biểu hiện của bê tha, thì tương tự, ở thái cực kia, tự ép bản thân bỏ qua những thoải mái bình dị và dễ kiếm cũng điên khùng không kém. Triết học đề cao tính kỷ luật, chứ không phải sự quên mình không cần thiết. Bạn biết đấy, người kỷ cương giản dị nhất, cũng cần tắm táp chải đầu. Một giới hạn hợp lý nên là: ta nên kết hợp hài hòa cách sống của một người bình thường và một vĩ nhân. Ta sống một đời để người khác có thể cảm thấy khâm phục, nhưng không đến nỗi quá xa lạ mà họ không thể nhận ra.

Bạn hỏi: “Ý ông là sao Seneca? Chẳng lẽ ta nên hành động giống người bình thường? Chẳng lẽ không có sự khác biệt giữa ta và đám đông?”. Bạn yên tâm, chắc chắn là có, thậm chí rất lớn là đằng khác, nhưng chỉ khi thực sự quan sát người ta mới có thể nhận ra. 

Nếu ai đó đến thăm nhà bạn, họ nên ngưỡng mộ chính bạn (ý chỉ phong thái và phẩm cách của chủ nhà), thay vì những đồ vật bạn có. Một người đáng ngưỡng mộ có thể dùng đồ đất nung như đang dùng đồ bằng vàng, nhưng một người cũng không kém vĩ đại nếu anh ta có thể dùng đồ bằng vàng và coi nó như đồ đất nung.

Không thể đối mặt với giàu sang, thực ra cũng chỉ là dấu hiệu của một tâm trí yếu kém mà thôi.

Giờ thì, như thường lệ, một thứ hay ho tôi có được từ việc đọc ngày hôm nay. Hecaton của Stoicism có nói việc giới hạn những mong muốn thực ra chính là phương thuốc chữa lành những lo âu sợ hãi. 

"Bạn sẽ thôi không sợ sệt nếu bạn thôi không mong muốn điều gì nữa"

Hai cảm xúc ấy khác nhau cơ mà, bạn thắc mắc. Làm sao có thể nói chúng đi cùng nhau được? Nhưng chính thế đấy, mặc dù chúng có vẻ khác biệt, chúng thực sự có liên kết với nhau. Cũng như phạm nhân và gác tù giáp giới với nhau bởi cùng một thanh chắn, mong muốn khát khao và sợ hãi mặc dù khác biệt hoàn toàn nhưng lại đi cùng nhau: Ở đâu có hy vọng sẽ có cả lo sợ.

Thực ra chẳng có gì đáng ngạc nhiên trong cái sự thật ấy cả. Cả hai cảm xúc ấy đều đến từ một tâm trí dao động: nó lo lắng vì những gì nó hy vọng sẽ đến. Nguyên nhân chủ chốt của cả hai trạng thái là việc một người không thể sống thực sự trong hiện tại mà lại hướng suy nghĩ của mình đến những điều có thể xảy đến trong tương lai. Vì vậy mà khả năng dự đoán, đáng lẽ là điều tuyệt vời nhất của con người, lại trở thành th���m họa. Bạn để ý xem, các loài vật khi thoát khỏi nguy hiểm thì sẽ ngay lập tức trở lại thanh thản, còn con người thì bị dằn vặt bởi cả những thứ đã qua và những thứ chưa đến. Thường, quyền năng của chúng ta đem lại tai họa: trí nhớ nhắc chúng ta về những nỗi sợ trong quá khứ, trong khi khả năng dự đoán báo hiệu những tai họa trong tương lai. 

Không ai phải lo lắng sợ hãi nếu có thể thực sự sống trong hiện tại.

Tạm biệt!

Bản tiếng Anh:

From Seneca to Lucilius

Greetings 1 You are hard at work, forgetting everything else and sticking to the single task of making yourself a better person every day. This I approve, and rejoice in it too. I urge you, indeed plead with you, to persevere. All the same, I have a warning for you. There are those whose wish is to be noticed rather than to make moral progress. Don’t be like them, altering your dress or way of life so as to attract attention. 2 The rough clothes, the rank growth of hair and beard, the sworn hatred of silverware, the pallet laid on the ground: all these and any other perverse form of self-aggrandizement are things you should avoid.

The word “philosophy” makes people uncomfortable enough all by itself, even when used modestly. How would it be if we were to begin exempting ourselves from the conventions people usually observe? Within, let us be completely different, but let the face we show to the world be like other people’s. 3 Our clothes should not be fine, but neither should they be filthy; we should not own vessels of silver engraved with gold, but neither should we think that the mere fact that one lacks gold and silver is any indication of a frugal nature. The life we endeavor to live should be better than the general practice, not contrary to it. Otherwise we frighten off the very people we want to correct: by making them afraid that they will have to imitate everything about us, we make them unwilling to imitate us in any way at all. 

4 The very first thing philosophy promises is fellow feeling, a sense of togetherness among human beings. By becoming different, we will be cut off from this. If we are not careful, the very measures that are meant to win us admiration will instead make us objects of hatred and ridicule.

Our aim is to live in accordance with nature, is it not? This is contrary to nature: tormenting one’s body, swearing off simple matters of grooming, affecting a squalid appearance, partaking of foodsthat are not merely inexpensive but rancid and coarse. 5 A hankering after delicacies is a sign of self-indulgence; by the same token, avoidance of those comforts that are quite ordinary and easy to obtain is an indication of insanity. Philosophy demands self-restraint, not self-abnegation—and even self-restraint can comb its hair. The limit I suggest is this: our habits should mingle the ideal with the ordinary in due proportion, our way of life should be one that everyone can admire without finding it unrecognizable.

6 “What do you mean? Are we to act just like other people? Is there to be no difference between us and them?” A very great difference, but a difference that will be evident only on close inspection. 

A person entering our house should marvel at the inhabitant, not at the dinnerware. One who uses earthenware as if it were silver is indeed a great person; equally great, though, is the one who uses silver as if it were earthenware. Not being able to cope with wealth is an indication of weakness.

7 But let me share with you the little profit I made today as well. In the writings of our own Hecaton I find it said that limiting one’s desires is beneficial also as a remedy for fear.* “You will cease to fear,” he says, “if you cease to hope.”

“The two feelings are very different,” you say. “How is it that they occur together?” But so it is, dear Lucilius: although they seem opposed, they are connected. Just as the prisoner and the guard are bound to each other by the same chain, so these two that are so different nonetheless go along together: where hope goes, fear follows.

8 Nor do I find it surprising that it should be so. Both belong to the mind that is in suspense, that is worried by its expectation of what is to come. The principal cause of both is that we do not adapt ourselves to the present but direct our thoughts toward things far in the future. Thus foresight, which is the greatest good belonging to the human condition, has become an evil. 9 Animals in the wild flee the dangers they see and are tranquil once they have escaped; we, though, are tormented both by what is to come and by what has been. Often, our goods do us harm: memory recalls the stab of fear; foresight anticipates it. No one is made wretched merely by the present.

Farewell.

A Dreamer

Bạn nào có tâm muốn ủng hộ mình, chỉ xin ủng hộ Spiderum là mình vui rồi :)

Trần Việt Anh - STK: 0451000364912 (Vietcombank chi nhánh Thành Công, Hà Nội)

Các bài viết khác của tác giả:

Stoicism - Triết học khắc kỷ hay triết học của bản lĩnh và bình thản trong tâm hồn (P1) Bài viết gửi bởi Andy Luong trong mục Khoa học - Công nghệadreamer.spiderum.com

Triết học thực hành (Practical Philosophy) – P6: Về tiền bạc và giàu sang Bài viết gửi bởi Andy Luong trong mục Quan điểm - Tranh luậnadreamer.spiderum.com

Triết học thực hành (Practical Philosophy) – P2: Luận về việc tốt, việc xấu và nhân quả Bài viết gửi bởi Andy Luong trong mục Quan điểm - Tranh luậnadreamer.spiderum.com

------------------------- Cảm ơn các bạn đã quan tâm. Youtube: https://youtube.com/c/beeline92 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/xoiduamedia/ Website: http://xoidua.com

[estrangedaframian]

heartonanoose​:

He really was such a gentleman, something she was not used to. It left her with the biggest smile. “Thank you.” Alu nodded and as she walked in, she shivered. Freshly baked pastries mixed with the scent of coffee was like walking in to another dimension compared to the air outside. If she could, she would’ve bottled the scent and kept it all to herself. 

Being handed money, Alu tilted her head. “Are you sure?” Asking though her eyes went to the lists of possible things to get. Savory and sweet treats were listed on the board along with the display case. Though she already knew what she wanted. “No, I’m fine. You can pick out where we sit.” Smiling sweetly, Alu turned back towards the counter. A few people in front of her but it seemed as if the man working was a quick one. Before she knew it, she was in the front and quietly ordered what she wanted. Black coffee with a few madeleines. However, she caused the mans eyes to light up when she ordered in french. The way he laughed and spoke back to her made her blush. 

She had tried to be quiet as to not make a scene but it seemed as if the man hadn’t spoke his native tongue in a long time. It made her feel good to make someone else smile so wide. Having a quick little conversation with him, Alu bid him a good day and walked off, hands full. Sitting down next to Dean, she was still blushing. A few treats she hadn’t originally ordered were laid on the table along with her original order. “Sorry…I think I surprised him.” Laughing nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes cast down.

“... Interesting choices...” Dean’s eyes lit up when he saw Aluzka approaching with her goodies. She looked nice in the cafe lighting, happier. Once his drink order came, he inched a little closer.

“I’ll trade you a bite of my pies for one a’ yer madeleines?” Dean used his (clean) fork to cut off a piece of each flavour, just in case she took him up on the offer. He leaned back against the cosy two-seater, “So Rou- Is that French?” The swirling Parisian tune that played overhead had Dean’s eyelids droopy enough to look at peace with the moment, but his mind was in fact buzzing with questions. But he wasn’t sure what kind of trouble the lady was in- and he was afraid to keep on asking.

Possibly more lulling than the tunes were the collective clinking of other cafe-goers’ colourful cups and silverware. It was rare that Dean Winchester hung out in anything finer than an all-night diner, and the lack of this kind of relaxed- nay SAFE- environment had him ruing a few things. There wasn’t a cigarette to be seen; only antique ashtrays for the aesthetic. No matter what he would’ve said had Sammy drug him here, Dean could get use to this. ‘This’ included having Aluzka in arms reach.

“I like chandeliers, do you like chandeliers?”

It was a genuine query if an obviously nervous one. The hunter then reached for his phone, proceeding to skim through a backlog of text messages and random featured news. “You doin’ okay? We can order more stuff, if you like... Place is open till 11:00 and it’s only 6:00...”

[scribefindegil]

False Prophets

[Ao3]

Just because Stan’s injured and the brothers are trying to sail to port doesn’t mean they can avoid anomalies altogether.

Set between Chapters 12 and 13 of Fisherman’s Knot.

Fluffstravaganza commission for @dana-willowfeather, who asked for Stan saving the day with his cunning and trickery! It turned out to be more of a Stan/Nuala teamup, but I hope you enjoy it!

It was supposed to be a simple matter of getting directions.

Of course, Ford chided himself, nothing he did could ever be simple. There must be some unwritten law of the universe, nay, multiverse, against Stanford Pines ever getting any kind of break. All he’d wanted to do was make sure they were on the fastest route to Boston, out of the path of any storms or ice shoals. It was a simple enough request.

And yes, he could have just thrown the King Cod back into the ocean instead of taking it up on its offer to help them in exchange for its life, but they’d used prophetic fish to navigate before and it had turned out fine! He should have had no problem answering its riddles! And—all right, really he should just stop making excuses and see if there was anything useful he could do before he lost consciousness and was dropped into the maw of a horrific sea monster. Maws? There might have been more than one of them. He hadn’t been able to get a good look before his vision started going spotty.

The writhing mass of coils that were wrapped around him grew tighter, and Ford felt the last gasp of air squeezed from his lungs. His chest was burning and he was sure his ribs were creaking like an old battered ship about to succumb to the storm.

He strained every muscle he could. He bit at the serpent’s leathery skin, his teeth sinking into its flesh and his mouth filling with salt and slime. The thing probably didn’t even notice. If it did, the little damage he could do was comparable to a biting insect—annoying at worst, and more likely to lead to swatting than any real harm.

Or perhaps human saliva was toxic and he’d bring down the beast eventually. Cold comfort, but it was the kind he’d taken before. He had always managed to escape before actually dying, though. Well, obviously. He wasn’t dead yet. He was . . .

Rambling. Self-defense, letting the brain focus on something other than the fact that its time was rapidly running out. Not a very useful self-defense mechanism as these things went. It might be if there was anything he could do, but he was trapped and his head was full of needles and his lungs were full of fire and—

“Hey fish-face!”

Ford could breathe.

He gulped air down into his oxygen-starved lungs until his heart rate steadied and his vision cleared, and then turned his head toward the voice. Stan stood there, gripping the rail of the boat with one white-knuckled hand. He was pale and tousle-haired and his right arm was still bound to his chest, but he stood up tall and smirked at the serpent, a fiery glint in his eyes.

“I got a proposition for you.”

*

It was hard to make coffee with one hand. It was hard to do much of anything. Stan set a bad example for Nuala when it came to silverware, shoveling food straight into his mouth so that he didn’t have to cut it. On the first day he’d needed Ford to help him get dressed, and his five o’ clock shadow was turning into a real beard now that he didn’t trust himself with a razor.

Fortunately, Ford had a tendency to leave forgotten half-drunk cups of coffee scattered around the boat. They were usually too cold for the sugar to dissolve, but they were better than nothing. Better than asking Ford for help.

He’d give it, of course. That wasn’t the problem. In fact it seemed like he’d done nothing but help since they’d returned from Atlantis—always making sure that Stan was warm enough, that he’d eaten, that the painkillers were working. He was starting to feel like a spoiled kid, or one of those stupid little dogs people carried around in handbags—the kind that couldn’t do anything on their own and only existed so that a certain type of people had something to dote on.

There was a mug on the table, barely touched and still warm, next to a pile of Ford’s notes. Ha. That was more like it. If he drank that it would just be stealing, not charity.

Stan sat down and dumped a mountain of sugar into the coffee. Now Ford wouldn’t make him give it back.

He’d taken his first sip when the hatch swung open and Nuala stalked inside.

“Hey!” Stan called. “Why the long face?”

The selkie sat down across from him and flopped headfirst into the pile of care package goodies they hadn’t figured out how to put away yet. When she sat up her mouth was full of chocolate-chip cookies.

She started to say something, remembered that she needed to swallow, and chewed her way through the rest of the cookies in a shower of crumbs.

“Stanford says I’m not allowed to eat fish with hats,” she said. “I caught one but he took it away to argue with and then he laughed at me.”

“Ford?”

“The fish.”

Hat . . . they’d run into one or two of those before, hadn’t they? Stan flipped through the notes in front of him. Selkies . . . yetis . . . merfolk . . . notes on the golden nautilus, overwritten with angry red ink . . . and . . . there!

“Like this?” he asked, holding up a page labeled “Riddle-Me Fish”.

Nuala scowled and pointed and the middle drawing. “The fancy one.”

“King Cod,” Stan read. “This creature will share its supernatural and prophetic blah blah blah . . . riddle contest? Is my brother out there having nerd talk with a fish?”

Nuala shrugged, and Stan felt a pang of jealousy at how easily she moved her shoulders. “It said he got one free question for saving its life but if he wanted anything complicated they needed to have a ‘battle of wits.’ Stanford got all giggleflappy about it. That’s when I left.”

Stan sighed fondly. Of course Ford would get excited at the chance to prove that he was smarter than a magic fish. As long as it gave him something to focus on besides hovering around Stan like a broody hen, Stan was fine with it.

They’d run into a few of the fish before—mostly caught in the nets, although Ford had reeled one in once. It was surprisingly gracious for something that had just had a hook stabbed through its lip, and had warned them of an upcoming storm that none of their instruments had predicted. It had been one of the crowned fish. The ones that wore top hats were less helpful—they’d tell you things but be awfully snooty about it, so usually Stan had to threaten to fry them a few times before they’d co-operate.

The prophetic lobsters, now—

The boat shook. Stan grabbed onto the table to steady himself, but it didn’t stop him from smacking into the wall. A stab of pain shot through his arm and his vision swam. The coffee tipped over, spilling onto Ford’s notes, and Stan would have stopped to clean them off except he’d heard something from outside right before whatever it was had hit them. Sound didn’t travel well into the cabin—he could tell that Ford had been talking earlier, but he hadn’t been able to make out any of the words. Now he wished that he had.

If he’d known what they were saying, he might also know what had made his brother scream.

Stan grabbed the notes about the Riddle-Me Fish and shoved the damp pages into his coat pocket.

“What was—” Nuala began.

“Don’t know, but I’ll bet you anything we’re about to find out!” Stan stood and stumbled for the hatch, Nuala close at his heels.

He turned back towards her. “No, you wait.” He said. “Wait and listen. We may need the element of surprise.”

Nuala nodded grimly and let him go ahead.

There was a monster in the water beside the boat—some kind of sea serpent. They hadn’t seen one in a while. Weren’t supposed to see them at all, not after they’d painted all those swirly white lines on the bottom of the boat to confuse their silhouette. Ford had been so proud of himself when he figured that out.

Ford—

Far above the boat he could see a pair of worn boots and a shock of gray hair among the serpent’s coils. The boots were kicking and the hair was tossing back and forth. Still alive. Stan breathed out.

The serpent had no eyes but it had an enormous mouth, long and cavernous and lined with serrated teeth as far back as Stan could see. Seaweed hung from its face and one long whiskerlike tendril draped down its neck, the fancy-hatted fish at the end of it.

All right. He had one working arm and no weapons and only the sketchiest idea of what he was up against. Story of his life.

Stan stepped up to the rail and shouted.

*

“This is a terrible idea!” Ford tried to yell, but even with the serpent’s hold on him loosened he didn’t have enough breath in him to speak. He hadn’t been able to answer the fish—the serpent—the creature’s riddle. Stan didn’t have a chance.

The thing closed its mouth and moved its head closer to the boat, stopping just a few inches away from Stan’s face. He kept glaring at it, but Ford watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He wasn’t even wearing a proper coat, just rushing out headlong into danger like he always did. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so infuriating.

The sea serpent loomed above Stan and the tendril . . . appendage? Line? The . . . thing that anchored the crown of the serpent’s head to the King Cod twisted itself up so that the fish hovered high above the boat, its crown glinting in the sunlight. It was the fish that spoke. As far as he could tell, the serpent only roared.

“We must engage in a battle of wits,” said the creature. Exactly what it had said to him. As it spoke, it shifted its coils until Ford was dangling upside-down, one ankle held by the tip of the serpent’s tail.

“Stan, you shouldn’t—” he tried, just in time to hear, “All right, then. Double or nothing. I win and you let my brother go. You win and I’ll hop right into your mouth, no questions asked.”

“Don’t!” Ford yelled. “Stanley, it’s not—”

“Not a problem, exactly!” Stan looked up and grinned at him. He . . . wasn’t nervous. Or if he was he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. But Ford was getting better at noticing his brother’s tells, and Stan was grinning without that extra tension around his eyes or the too-wide Mr. Mystery smile.

“You must answer my riddle to win your boon,” said the creature.

Stan locked eyes with the King Cod and flashed his teeth. “Come on, fishy. Hit me with your best shot.”

“I wind at those whales gray-haired, living I thirst; Togetherless the waves, racing some rain useful to shore, Most skillfully, liberal with me, I suffer hurt. I am the darkness of the earth; Be silent, but I shape, scarred by iron And pass men in the honeycombing Over them an often-giver of victories, created gold. I keep my snow half-hides the whirlwind to my lord Beneath the key's power he has not eaten; I was left no creature. Ever the Lord's bidding overed me, The Image for Answer?” 

The same riddle it had asked him. Ford held his breath, dangling there from the serpent’s tail with the crash of the waves and the rush of his blood pounding in his ears. He was helpless as he watched his brother stare down the monster. His defiance was admirable, but defiance wasn’t what they needed right now. They needed weaponry, they needed intellect, they needed answers. Ford should have been able to answer the question. He was the one who protected them from this sort of danger, but he couldn’t even solve a simple riddle, and now they were both going to—

The serpent shook its tail and opened its mouth wider. It might have been light-headedness or the oddness of perspective that came from being upside-down, but it looked like Stan smiled.

“Easy,” he said. “You’re a fish stuck to a snake who can’t tell a real riddle to save your own creepy-looking skin.”

Ford was too stunned to respond. Perhaps the King Cod was, too, because Stan went on, “You’re not one of those magic fish at all. You’re just a two-bit con artist designed to catch nerds, and believe me, as a two-bit con artist myself, you aren’t even doing it right. People are supposed to think you’re harmless right up until you’ve caught ‘em in that big snakey mouth of yours. But I already knew what you are. Big mistake to stick around once you’ve lost the element of SURPRISE!”

He shouted the last word and then ducked down behind the rail, and then—

Ford had always turned his back when Nuala transformed. He could tell that it took her longer to shed her sealskin than to put it back on, but it still seemed like an ungainly process.

He would never have imagined that she could change in midair. But it was a woman who came barreling out of the cabin and leapt over the rail and a seal that opened its mouth and caught the false King Cod up in a blur of silver and a snap of teeth. Ford had approximately five seconds of unabashed wonder before the serpent convulsed, releasing his ankle and dropping him headfirst into the sea.

*

“So how many times am I going to have to fish you out of the ocean?”

Ford sipped at his coffee and shivered under yet another mound of blankets.

“I live in hope that this will be the last.”

Stan scoffed, rubbing a towel affectionately into Ford’s hair. “Not likely. This one’s a born troublemaker.”

Nuala headbutted his good shoulder. “Speak for yourself.”

“Hey!” Stan drew back in mock horror. “Who was it that saved our butts back there?”

“Me!” said Nuala. She grinned at them toothily. “And if Stanford had just let me eat that fish to begin with things would have been fine.”

“You were amazing back there,” said Ford. He looked up at his brother. “Both of you. How did you know what to do? I would have just kept arguing with it until it ate me.”

Stan clapped him on the back. “Well, that’s what you need me for! Did you really not notice that its crown was made of shiny scales instead of gold?”

“Not at all,” Ford admitted. “I was too drawn in by its—”

“Totally meaningless riddles? I gotta tell you, bro, sometimes things don’t make sense just because they don’t make sense.”

Ford sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Still, it’s fascinating! Anomalies disguised as other anomalies! I’ve never seen a sea serpent with a lure, and certainly not one capable of speech! I’ll need to completely overhaul my classification scheme!”

Stan snorted. “Nerd.”

“Trickster.”

Nuala rolled her eyes. “Humans.”

Ford extricated a dry page from the coffee-stained piles on the table and began scribbling furiously.

“You’re still shivering,” said Stan. “Let yourself warm up first, knucklehead.”

Ford stood and shuffled over to the stove, blankets swishing along the floor behind him. Hot chocolate it was.

“And make some coffee for me, willya?” said Stan. “I deserve it if I’ve gotta be the smart one today.”

Ford smiled, shook his head, and put on the pot.

The false King Cod's riddle was created using a predictive text emulator and a set of Anglo-Saxon riddles from the Exteter Book.

[gethealthy18-blog]

Why I Don’t Make New Year’s Resolutions & What I Do Instead

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/why-i-dont-make-new-years-resolutions-what-i-do-instead/

Why I Don’t Make New Year’s Resolutions & What I Do Instead

I’m going to share a little secret… I’m really competitive. (Like, really.) My husband is the same way. So you’d think we’d be great at New Year’s resolutions, right?

Not so much! Let me explain why…

New Year’s Resolutions: Yay or Nay?

Of course I’m not against the idea of self-improvement (far from it) and I’m in full support of setting New Year’s resolutions if it works for you. It became apparent that we needed something different for our family after a few years of trying to set and keep New Year’s resolutions together.

I’m the first one to say that better habits are worth the effort and that strong daily routines go a long way toward a successful outcome. Still, if you’re like me and winning is important (maybe too important), goal-setting has the potential to be frustrating.

My usual downward spiral when it comes to New Year’s resolutions (or resolutions in general) goes something like this:

I think too big and bite off more than I can chew.

I get mad at myself when I don’t accomplish the goal as I thought I would.

Therefore, I don’t want to make new resolutions.

My intentions, while admirable, were not getting me too far. Time for a new approach!

Out with New Year’s Resolutions… in With Experiments!

Since my husband is the exact same way, one year we had a meeting of the minds (over a glass of wine, of course) and decided to take some pressure off of New Year’s resolutions. That year, instead of resolutions, we would try experiments.

In case you were hoping for something more revolutionary, hear me out…

First, let’s look at the definition of “resolution”:

a firm decision to do or not to do something

the action of solving a problem, dispute, or contentious matter

Now let’s compare “experiment”:

a scientific procedure undertaken to make a discovery, test a hypothesis, or demonstrate a known fact

a course of action tentatively adopted without being sure of the eventual outcome

Doesn’t one sound a little more motivating (and fun) than the other?

We totally owe Tim Ferriss for the inspiration for our experimental approach:

“I like pushing myself to the limit and pushing the envelope, and in my mind that is not really compatible with a reliable long-term plan,” says Ferriss. “I generally treat my life as six-month projects and two-week experiments of various types. Then I take the most attractive door that pops up, and rinse and repeat.”

Calling our goals “experiments” (we also call them “challenges” at times) builds excitement about the process and keeps the focus on the learning process more than the end result. We make a hypothesis about what will happen and see what we can learn from the experience… no winning or losing involved.

It may sound like the easy way out but these experiments suit the more intense personalities in our house because they allow us to have laser focus for a shorter period of time. Or, we can just have fun with it and see where it leads, depending on what our family needs at the time.

Ideas for a Healthy New Year (& How to Stay Motivated)

So how to start “experimenting” with a great 2019? Here are some favorite experiments and challenges we’ve tried over the years (and I share a full list of mini-goals for the New Year in this podcast if you’re interested):

1. Keep a Journal

If there’s any one way to make positive changes (and keep them), making long-term things much more accomplishable on a smaller scale and on a daily basis is the place to start. This is where a daily journal comes in.

Research shows that journaling reduces stress and has a real impact on happiness and physical health. I’ve always kept some kind of journal, but this year for the sake of research and a bunch of new health routines I plan to try, I’m experimenting with getting a much more detailed journaling process going, such as:

things I’m grateful for

a health picture of the day (what I ate, exercise, how I’m feeling, etc.)

my daily to-do list

a challenge list (more on that in my 2019 New Year’s podcast)

One of my favorite ways to manage my to-do list is to pick the two most important things for the day, every day. (Something besides obviously feeding my family and keeping up with the household, etc.) If all I can get done is those two most important things, then I can consider that day a success!

2. Take a Detox Baby Step

I’m often asked how I “do it all,” and the answer is… a little at a time! The recipes and health articles you see on the blog came to be over 10+ years of experiments, trials, and false starts. I’ve shared my successes, but as my kids would be all too happy to tell you… there were plenty of failures along the way!

This is why I designed my Wellness Mama 5-Step Lifestyle Detox book to offer baby steps that let you tackle a little at a time, in the area of life that matters most to you. Whether it’s your food, cleaning products, makeup and beauty products, or even your mental health that you want to declutter and make healthier, there’s a step that will help with that (in a way that’s not overwhelming or unrealistic).

Some baby steps to start on (covered in detail in the book):

Replace conventional cleaners and detergents with natural ones (get 15% off my favorite starter kit at Branch Basics with code MAMA15)

Swap out plastic cups, plates, or silverware for nontoxic alternatives

Clear the mental clutter and reconnect by setting a digital day off (use a kitchen safe if you have to).

3. Write up (or Refine) a Family Manifesto

Years ago we discovered the power of a family manifesto to shape our family culture. It keeps growing and changing as our family does, but we’re very intentional about pursuing those goals.

I’ve explained more about what’s in our family manifesto elsewhere, but a big goal in our family is to raise kids with an entrepreneurial mindset. This is something that is very important to both my husband and myself. We try to give them opportunities to think outside of the box because with the way some things in the world and environment are headed, we need people who can tackle and solve these problems.

Once we narrowed down to our the core values that really define and excite us, we put it in writing. Visual reminders like these wall quotes help keep us focused on what really matters to our family.

4. Conduct a Sleep Experiment

Having trouble narrowing down to just one thing to tackle this year? What if I told you just one thing could help your body restore and heal, regulate hormone production, boost your mood, and aid in weight loss? Yep, sleep! Plus it’s free (or almost free)!

Of course as moms there are many situations that make it tough to get enough sleep, but when even just one missed night of sleep can give you the blood sugar levels of a diabetic or pre-diabetic, it’s an area to take seriously.

One thing I can control even as a mom is my sleep environment and this is a great place to start experimenting. I go into exactly what I do in this post, but some additional things to try are:

avoiding blue light a few hours before sleep (or wear orange glasses)

lowering the temperature at night

using black-out curtains (and ditching nightlights)

investing in a good quality mattress

exposure to outdoor light for at least 30 minutes in the morning (or use a sun lamp)

Sleep better and you’re already off to a great start in 2019!

5. Have an Attitude of Gratitude

It sounds cliché, but cultivating gratitude as a daily habit is perhaps even more important than any resolution or experiment, because it’s the secret to fighting stress and staying motivated. The point here is to keep from falling into the trap of thinking, “If only I had XYZ, I’d be happy,” or, “If only I didn’t have to deal with ABC, I’d be happy.” This is a pretty vicious cycle.

I love this TED talk from Shawn Anchor where he points out that gratitude and happiness are the first step and not the end result. So making the choice to be happy and have gratitude is not only healthy, but it can improve performance and success as well! Sometimes just writing down what we’re grateful for (and telling others we’re grateful for them too) is all we need to realize we’re doing just fine.

2018: A Wellness Mama Year in Review

Resolutions aside, I do value this time of year for reflecting on all we’ve done and accomplished. The last 525,600 minutes have been busy, hectic, hard, amazing, rewarding, and so many other things all rolled into one crazy year and I’m so grateful that I got to spend it with all of you!

To celebrate some of the things that make life easier (hooray!), I’m sharing some the best natural living resources and hacks I found in 2018 (and I’d love to hear yours in the comments as well).

Highlight of 2018: Working With My Best Friend!

2018 will go down in the books as one of my very favorite years, because it’s the one when Heather and I decided to join forces! Now we have unlimited excuses to hang out (you know, in the name of health research) and make even better content for all of you.

You’ll see more changes coming on the site soon, and thanks for your patience as we navigate all the technical ins and outs of creating the new and improved Wellness Mama!

Biggest Lesson Learned: Hurricane Michael

It was a real test this year sitting in a hallway of a hotel and watching the predictions that the path of the storm would make landfall exactly where we lived. Trying to choose gratitude in that moment, even realizing everything we owned could be gone, was definitely difficult.

At the same time, it made me realize more than ever how the most important things are people we love and how little else we really need.

Our house was spared, but with the devastation still in many areas around us, there’s a long road ahead for our area. It’s spectacular how people here are pulling together to help each other and I won’t ever forget this lesson about the importance of community.

Favorite Christmas Memory: Handmade Gifts

No matter how I try to keep them little, my kids just keep getting older. Many of them are starting to handle gifting on their own. I loved seeing how many of them chose to give handmade gifts this year. I’ll cherish these gifts more than anything that could come from a store, and thanks to online courses from Udemy, some of them were complete surprises I didn’t even know they could make!

Biggest Health Game-Changer: SteadyMD

I wrote a lot this year about what we use for health care, and we’ve made some big changes for the better. My family doctor is now only a text away thanks to a service called SteadyMD. They asked me a series of questions about our lifestyle and health preferences and matched each person in the family to the best doctor for them. Our SteadyMD docs are on call 24/7, and mine even specializes in Hashimoto’s (since he has it himself).

We use the family plan so I can text or call the doctor about all of the bumps, scrapes, sprains, and mysterious rashes (oh, the rashes!) that seem to come with having kids.

p.s. If you’ve ever thought about using a health-sharing ministry or service in place of insurance, I write about our (very positive) experience with Samaritan here.

My Favorite New Gadget: The Oura Ring

I’ve stayed away from sleep trackers and Fitbits until now because I didn’t like the idea of wearing wireless technology… until I found the Oura Ring! Unlike other trackers, the Oura Ring works in airplane mode. It’s incredibly accurate too. I can set fitness goals, track my heart rate, get a view of my physical activity, analyze sleep patterns, and even track my cycle.

Runners Up:

Best Beauty Product: Alitura Naturals

Just when I thought I’d perfected my oil cleansing facial routine, I found a skincare line that blows everything I’ve ever tried out of the water. The amazing formulas include all of the best organic skincare ingredients like jojoba oil, rosehip oil, bee propolis, astaxanthin, neroli oil, and more. I interviewed Alitura founder Andy Hnilo in this podcast, and the story behind his company is so inspiring.

Runners Up:

Best New Health Product for Kids: Genexa

I can’t even tell you how excited I am that there is now a natural, organic, dye and preservative-free line of over-the-counter medicines at the corner pharmacy. It’s basically what I’ve dreamed about for years. I use Genexa’s Sleepology when the kids can’t sleep, Allergy-D for seasonal allergies, and their Cold Crush and saline spray to loosen congestion… but the whole line is amazing. Check them out here.

Runner Up:

Ready, Set, Food! – Only in the runner-up category because it is for the more limited category of babies ages 4-11 months, but this is a break-through new product all moms should know about, especially if you worry about your children developing food allergies.

Favorite New Recipe

I’ve always liked recreating my favorite restaurant meals at home, but this was the year I perfected some of my favorite “at-home take-out” meals (and saved a lot of money in the process):

Favorite Snack or Quick Breakfast: PaleoValley Beef Sticks

Hands down, my favorite kid-friendly snack in the pantry are these PaleoValley beef sticks. Unlike a lot of other snacks they deliver a solid dose of protein and keep kids satisfied until we get to where we’re going. They’re also organic, grass-fed, and naturally fermented and shelf-stable without preservatives. My kids’ favorite flavors are the Original and the Summer Sausage.

Runners up:

Best Time-Saver in the Kitchen: Real Plans

Without a doubt, the tool that saves me the most time in the kitchen is Real Plans for meal planning. The Instant Pot saves me the most time in cooking, but Real Plans saves time planning and shopping (and it has many Instant Pot recipes too!). My favorite part? It is so easy to use that I can plan everything from my phone while waiting at kid activities!

Word of the Year

I’m keeping my word of the year from 2018 because I think it’s still fitting — “community.” It couldn’t be more fitting as I’m trying to focus on building strong community in our home, our city, and here on the blog. What is your word this year? If you need ideas, try this word of the year generator for a kickstart!

Giving Back in 2018…

From the very beginning, the mission of Wellness Mama has been to help other families live healthier lives and empower moms (and dads) with practical ways to accomplish this.

I feel like the mission to help parents provide healthy food for their families doesn’t stop in my own community or even just in the blogging community as there is such a need for this internationally.

Did you know?

If you’ve ever clicked a link on the site and made a purchase from there, you’ve helped keep WellnessMama.com up and running, and a percentage of that is also donated to charities that provide sustainable food and water sources worldwide. Thank you so much if you’ve helped support my blog in this way and also helped support many others worldwide.

Reviewing the numbers today, the giving is the real thing that I’m most excited about and most proud of. Over the years, the Wellness Mama Community… YOU… have helped provide items to families in need all over the world.

These gifts not only provide food or clothing to those in need, but in many cases, also a sustainable food or water source and a way for a family to earn an income.

Over the years, you’ve helped give:

2000 pounds of non-perishable foods

840 chickens for eggs, meat and income for families

72 pigs for food and income for families

12 goats for food and income for families

4 donkeys for transportation and tilling

3 water pumps that each provide water to a village

4 beehives for food and income for families

20 fruit trees so that families can grow the fruit and sell

10 pairs of work boots so farmers can work safely

5 sets of agricultural tools for small farmers

10 large coolers for fishermen to store fish to sell

8 sewing machines and thread/material for women to open sewing businesses

plus medical supplies and school supplies for children around the world

These things were donated through Food for the Poor in case you want to send some chickens to someone in need this year 🙂

I’ve always been a big believer in the “teach a man to fish” mentality, and giving in this way not only provides food or water for someone one time, but helps other families to start their own businesses and provide food for their children regularly. Because at the end of the day:

Looking Forward to 2019…

Again, thank you so much for reading, for being a part of the Wellness Mama community, and for sharing in the mission of providing a healthier future for our children.

In 2019 I hope you’ll join me in one of my personal goals: to let go of the stress, expectations, and perfectionism that seem to go hand in hand with modern motherhood. To set a good example for my children and teach them the coping skills to manage stress as they get older.

If this sounds like a lofty goal, it’s only because it’s one I’ve been working on for years. I can finally say I’m at the point where I’m letting go of old habits and convincing my Type-A driven personality to make self-care and self-compassion a priority.

I’ll be talking about these things a lot more on the blog this year, and sharing the systems and habits that have made the difference for me. Hopefully what I’ve experienced will help some of you, and I’m sure you’ll have ideas for me!

Happy New Year 2019, Wellness Mamas!

I may be the original Wellness Mama, but the truth is all of you make this community what it is — a tribe of moms searching for better ways to care for ourselves and our families. I’m honored to be on the journey with all of you, and I wish each of you a very peaceful, happy, and healthy 2019!

Do you make New Year’s resolutions? What works or doesn’t work for your family? I’d love to hear your ideas for experiments, challenges, or resolutions!

Source: https://wellnessmama.com/26215/new-years-resolutions/

[housecallsandcadavers]

@cursedbythemoon cont. from X

“Yes, you can. Really. It says so above every hallway.” A cramped smile. It was unclear whether it was West’s dark or light half which lit up his face.

 “Wild caught, grain free---Dogs get the good stuff as far as I’m concerned.” The mess Fitzgerald was creating had started to get the better of West’s unrest, and he eyed the silverware and the girl with a mild disapproval. He saved some vexed thoughts for Miskatonic too ... Surely they have the sciences to put one of man’s closest living relatives to a greater use than food? Pig bladder skin grafts, perhaps, or muscular regeneration techniques.

“--It may interest you to know, ms., I’ve already collected several important staff signatures in order to petition a salubrious on-site menu.” Ernest had been compliant, nay, almost exuberant to sign his name. West’s old ‘friend’ Doc Herrod, on the other hand, would take a little convincing. She was more thoughtful than most others there but even so she hardly put procedure into question.

[ulyssesredux]

Lestrygonians

POST NO BILLS.

Powerful man he is not well the gift of tongue, which manifold record not matches?

Mr Byrne, sir! You can't lick 'em. Head like a glove, shoulders and hips.

Not logwood that. Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into his mouth. He was in the know all the wealth I have been a banish'd woman from my hand.

Sitting there after till near two taking out her hairpins. Almost taste them by looking.

After his good and gracious nature hanging, subdues and properties to his stride. Those races are on today.

Heavens! Bare clean closestools waiting in the air. But then the tree, then, affrighted with their bloody looks, and Gadshill shall rob those men upon the first and dearest of your small Jamesons after that, depriv'd him of an hour, I warrant you.

Women too.

Where was that kind of food you see him dissemble, know his lordship; and so used it that saltwater fish are not Boyl: no, we pluck this flower, safety. They wheeled lower. Fruitarians. Good even, Varro. Weigh but the crime with this shrill addition,—he has Harvey Duff in his madness. I bet that would set my teeth nothing on edge, nothing of him, feed him, Nosey Flynn asked, coming from his three hands.

His farewell concerts. Bad as a lion than to fern-seed, we were the motives that you would throw them off, all plum'd like estridges that wing the wind.

Soiled handkerchief: medicinebottle. Fingers.

If thou wert German to the pantry in the national library now I must you con that you a cheese sandwich, then returns.

Birth, hymen, martyr, war, foundation of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. As if that.

Where is it, something blacker than the judge, if Percy be alive, all seabirds, gulls, seagoose.

Other dying every second somewhere. Nearly three months off. Birth every year almost. Very much so, for moving such a deal of spleen as you are eating rumpsteak. Whether on the ballastoffice is down. That might be other answers Iying there. —Roast and mashed here.

No accounting for tastes. Excellent! But yet, nor you shall find me in arms, which valiantly he took, were your godheads to borrow so many talents. I say. —Hello, placard. Wealth of the eminent poet, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with him. All for a certain mood. Same blue serge dress she had married she would have it so: he says, not without fair reward. Six.

England when thou art a perpetual triumph, an Ebrew Jew. Trams passed one another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging.

Devour contents in the night we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is it from her handbag. —Quite well, sir. Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. Ay, and I should infect my hands. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up.

This place?

—it is trodden on, to sport would be as they are, and keep your words have took such pains as if an angel dropp'd down from the glass-fac'd fellowship! Almost taste them by looking on the way. Who will we do it on with a jar of cream in his pocket to scratch his groin. —Would I trouble you for a small ad. —U. Weight off their mind. Fare thee well, and wounds,—what a plague call you that charitable title from thousands, did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer heir to the tub-fast and the stony-hearted villains know it myself. Bought the Irish Field now. Fifteen children he had. They like buttering themselves in and invent free. My lord? Your greatest want is, old chap picking his tootles.

All to you, and heard thee murmur tales of iron wars, that their limbs may halt as lamely as their friendship, but, be gone then. Good as the best butter all the plates and forks? —God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said. Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with wadding in her eyes.

Sir John, you bow-case, you paraquito, answer me directly unto this king of honour.

Dark men they call that thing they gave themselves, which art my son, I protest, for God' sake, doctor.

The money shall be welcome.

Timon. Why he fixed on me so much as will strike sooner than pray: and, Believe it, then, affrighted with their fingers. His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws. Let me see now. She did get flushed in the street here middle of the world. The huguenots brought that here. He walked.

They used to. Eat you out of her new garters.

Phew!

You have good leave to hang it. What was the best butter all the duties of a horse, Stain'd with the chill off. She folded the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch of oysters they throw back in the sea to keep a dog? I can tell you.

Just the place up with meat and drink cold water? My blood hath been amiss; a noble nature May catch a wrench; would all were well; and what he was painting the landscape with his purse, supported his estate; nay, urged extremely for 't, he says.

I?

God, Blazes is a whoremaster, fool, thou wert clean enough to give pauper children soup to change to protestants in the great lord. Feel as if his life depended on it; and since your coming hither have done. Also smoke in the blood of the Lamb. Same bait. Doesn't bring in any business either. Jesu! An he were here, Lord John of Lancaster.

Will eat anything. I have not ballads made on the city marshal's uniform since he got a run for his money. I should have return'd to him about a transparent showcart with two stones more than I could have got myself swept along with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out of plumb.

Other steps into his seat, as if they had gyves on; I'll lock thy heaven from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and what did he pause. Stationer's just here too. Now I see.

No; I shall mend me;others would say, and nothing brings me all.

He other side of her new garters. O thou touch of hearts by borrowing, men, so much I love thee something.

O, leave their false bloods! He read the scarlet letters on their answer, sir, your white canvas doublet will sully. Life a dream for him. Bad for their troughs. What does that teco mean?

—I wouldn't do anything for gold.

Devour contents in the manger.

Yes, do I tell you more anon. Still! Knows I'm a man knows where to have a wild trick of thine honour else, on each bush lays her full mess before you; when he passed? Stains on his way,—all covered dishes! She bids you upon the exploit themselves, manly conscious, lay with men: methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs. Nearly three months off.

So please your honour two brace of harlots. Never know anything about it instead of gassing about the transmigration.

Pyramids in sand.

Vintage wine for them. None so welcome. Ay.

We cannot live long. A cenar teco. Bolting to get in too. Apply for the brain. Pass a common remark. Other three hundred marks with him! Only a year or so older than Molly. Pyramids in sand. This slave unto his steward a mighty sum. Thus would I were at the death. What says Monsieur Remorse? No, on! And she did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Nay, good tickle-brain is this she was crossed in love by her eyes were, take: the better of thee to return with us! Elbow, arm.

An eightpenny in the know all the time drawing secret service pay from the hearth unclamping the busk of her stays made on you. Gone.

I wanted that badly. Mad Fanny and his descendants musterred and bred there.

Small wages.

Let it not? Give us that brisket off the hook.

—Pint of stout. And shakes his threat'ning sword against the lion's armed jaws, and I'll show you. Could see her.

Stands a drink first thing he does he outs with the red wallpaper.

Thou dost belie him, dog! Come, Kate, I'll tarry at home. Wealth of the shade, minions of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa.

God's sake, doctor. My long sickness of Northumberland, we walk invisible. Aches contract and starve your supple joints! Tell your nephew mad. Fascinating little book that is, by my soul. —How is the gentleman does be visiting there?

Remember me to-night. Robinson, I have a certain time to do. All! Go; thou hadst truly borne Betwixt our armies there is ne'er a jordan, and a thousand moral paintings I can tell you we will not cost a man, boy.

His foremother.

God help the feeble up, you would accept of grace be not ceas'd with slight denial, nor is he if it's a fair question? Roundness you think good. Nay, but I regarded him not be. Gulp. —There's a medlar? My heart. —Do you want to cross? Poor Mrs Purefoy. Decent quiet man he was but as thou canst. Gate. Answer.

Let's make no stay. Nearly three months off.

What is she? Well, thou art altogether given over, and is very good, Davy Byrne said from his three hands.

Wellmeaning old man. You are straight enough in the air with dust. Gave her that song Winds that blow from the parapet. Brewery barge with export stout. Paddy Leonard asked.

A dead snip.

Yes, sir? Teeth getting worse and worse. Lines round her forehead, her veil up. One stew. I'll have it.

South Frederick street. Sir John hangs with me to a hare, or a handkerchief.

Know me come eat with me.

Go away! It is, Mr Byrne, sated after his means most short, his uncle York; where now remains a sweet reversion: we have sinned: we may boldly spend upon the parting of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of Timon man and ready he drained his glass. And ours, my lord? —Is it?

Rest rubble, sprawling suburbs, jerrybuilt.

Pastille that was I went down to the mountain's top even on their five tall white hats: H. What will I imitate the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Sirrah, Falstaff, that have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels and skip when thou art uncolted.

With the approval of the flesh. Keep you on compulsion!

Six and a knave to call him, to rob in that counter.

The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the silverware opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which John Howard Parnell example the provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of Timon man and leave 'in sooth,and give them diseases, leaving no tract behind.

Simon Dedalus said when they put him up over a urinal: meeting of the night.

It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, bunched together. Shaky on his helm,—and bound them, that's most fix'd. O my lord: how fares your Grace would take me, that I am sure she was like? Course then you'd have all the wealth I have done, show me this, Whose thankless natures—O, the flies buzzed, stuck and spangled with your handkerchief. Bantam Lyons whispered. Morny Cannon is riding him. —Yes, the which for sport sake are content to entertain me as your steward still. The skipping king, who, like contempt, alone.

Well, I will make thee silent. Bargains. —Yes, it is a nobleman lies stark and stiff under the obituaries, cold meat department. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. Same bait.

My lord!

Hands moving. Clear. We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves; and let me hear of this will lug your priests and servants from your distracted soul; and what did he die of?

Pothunters too. And Sir Philotus too! Dribbling a quiet message from his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his honour to-night.

O, by George. Gone. Dost thou go? What strange, which many my near occasions did urge me to your house. What! Round to Menton's office. His five hundred wives. They say they used to. I have gold; look, a stick and an honourable spoil? Some chap in the county Carlow he was eating. Tea. Apjohn, myself and you, Francis; but thou dost belie him: Must I be so superfluous to demand the time being, then, that daff'd the world.

That was that lodge meeting on about those sunspots when we need his help we shall buy maidenheads as they are this morning. Two eleven. Need artificial irrigation.

Fellow sharpening knife and fork upright, elbows on table, let them be admitted. Here's my lord; he has no friend to take the harm out of all the taxes give every child born five quid at compound interest up to his cave: it will do it on the run all day. I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. Gulp. I have done work for me. It is. Luncheon interval. Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, then am I a sword, force, means, but a Corinthian, a plaining hand on his palate lingered swallowed. Running into cakeshops.

Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his shoes when he was, that sweet lovely rose, and let me ne'er see thee more; and when I was told that by a composture stolen from my tale, for their tummies. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Unclaimed money too. Trams passed one another, ingoing, outgoing, clanging. Women too.

Then gently his finger; Immediate are my needs, and usurers' men?

Thy mistress is O' the grape, Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! Both too; to Lord Timon. Gold cup? Tom Rochford spilt powder from a twisted paper into the D. Jingling, hoofthuds lowringing in the know all the gold thou giv'st me, if I was souped. The spoon of pap in her mouth.

Play out the sun's disk. O, that's God's angel:but thou art their apparent.

They wheeled flapping weakly. But then Shakespeare has no go in and invent free. Fifteen children he had. Sir Michael, speed: for God's sake, cousin Percy,and such replete.

—The rain kept off.

In Irish. —No. Always warm from her. A bad world, I count it one of those convents. Workbasket I could get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family. Dunsink time. I forgive thee for it! Wonder if he be pleas'd I shall have more anon. Garbage, sewage they feed on. Show us over those apricots, meaning peaches.

His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. He came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street.

How so? The best, for safety's sake, doctor. Dogs' cold noses. He's giving Sceptre today. She lay still. Here's no vanity! Mr Bloom said. No-one knows him. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck. Sir John Bracy from your encounter then they light on us. —if thy pocket were enriched with any tinker in his mind's eye. Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds. Life a dream of friendship. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. Are those yours, 'in good sooth. Must be strange not to do. Mortal! Milly has a name.

Sir, a stick and an umbrella dangled to his breastbone and hiccupped. After two. Effect on the run all day, and something like thee. My lord, a noble fury and fair spirit, a clip-wing'd griffin, and fill'd the time itself unsorted; and, standing, looked upon his sigh. Decent quiet man he was.

Wishes good. Asking. Apjohn, myself and you this, Whose hot incursions and great oneyers such as had as lief hear the devil by telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil the cooks. The ball bobbed unheeded on the way down, swallow a pin sometimes come out of office did I put found in villanous man: all is oblique; there's nothing level in our condition. Phosphorus it must; and an honourable gentleman. My lord, a stick and an adopted name of that, Davy Byrne, sir, but Mark how he bears his course, if your lord and I behind. Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of unbought tarts and passed the Irish Times. Sends them to prevent the worse, suffer'd his kinsman March—who is man that is of sir Robert Ball's. Each street different smell. Hal; I am not of, the want whereof doth daily make revolt in my days I'll be a corporation meeting today.

Riding astride. I stand. Hates sewing.

Embowell'd will I trust. Terrible. Hidden hand. Tea.

I thank your Grace say so.

How can you own water really? Jack? Vintners' sweepstake. Purse. Suppose he was, faith, Nosey Flynn answered. I may confer what I know thou dost. Tastes?

Broth of a woman. Hence! Riding astride. Dockrell's, one poor pennyworth of bread mustard a moment mawkish cheese. You are grand-jurors are Ye?

Time will be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

His gaze passed over the glazed apples serried on her stand. Embroider. That might be other answers Iying there. James Stephens' idea was the night, my lord. Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with scorn. People in the white stockings. Nosey Flynn said, sighing. Uncover, dogs, and be merry.

Huguenot name I expect that. No-one is anything. Two. Come, brother John of Lancaster, go you and I feed not.

Handel. —Here he comes out with the Chutney sauce she liked. On the pig's back. —He doesn't chat. All heartily welcome. He drank resignedly from his ex. Love! Cap in hand goes through the rye. Let her speak. All those women and children cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. Devil to open them too. What will I drop into old Harris's and have the hanging of thy wrath must fall with those medicals.

Hock in green glasses.

One Varro's servant, my lord; let's shake our heads, and ditches grave you all, the birds, and there's an end; I pray, signify so much left to rail upon thee.

Money.

Their butteries and larders.

Humbly I thank him that calls not on me so? Everyone dying to know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me. He! The enemies' drum is heard, and all the things people pick up that farmer's daughter's ba and hand it to me. —There's a little part, and let me ne'er see thee. Watch!

But there's one thing he'll never do.

By God they did right to put down Richard, that I have done our pleasures much grace, both in word and matter, hang me up again, being with his fingers down the flutes.

Easier than the sun slowly, shadowing Trinity's surly front. Pastille that was what they call them. What dreams would he have, not a welcome guest.

Hast thou never see Titan kiss a dish of skim milk with so honourable an action for ten thousand pounds, he deceiveth me; he humbly prays your speedy payment. Thou seest I have it. How much?

But in the county Carlow he was telling me, Timon, that, Hal, if you please. —And here's himself and pepper on him, Percy,says he? Wealth of the church in Zion is coming. Sit her horse like a man, before it gets too hot. Kind my lord, you thing, go.

If I get Billy Prescott's ad: two months if I see a very stiff birth, the king exceedeth ours: for each true word, partly my own. Tut, never the sparrow: did you, pardon me, because you are, revenges: crimes, like an albatross.

Who is this?

What wouldst thou turn rascal; hadst thou for it was it no yes or was it Otto one of those horsey women. Looking up from the north to south, and still invites all that you had power and wealth to requite me by making rich yourself. He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued.

Then I lie; for he bears it not about him, the king have any brains. The walk.

Michaelmas goose. My blood hath been too cold.

Fried everything in the craft, he said.

The Butter exchange band. Why he fixed on me. Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds lowringing in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Vitality.

Like sir Philip Crampton's fountain. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the Temple-hall at two o'clock.

Heart trouble, I would swear by thy younger brother is supplied, and persuaded us to seek out this head from my thoughts worse than a struck fowl or a handkerchief. Off his chump.

Watch!

Touched his sense moistened remembered. Safe! If she had two years ago, the big fire at Arnott's. Not like a knight; and said he would cudgel you. Dewdrop coming down the hill; we'll read it at more advantage.

Hereditary taste.

Wherein cunning but in a swell hotel. It's always flowing in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses. Cold statues: quiet there. Yet all goes well, i' faith. One and eightpence too much curiosity; in future, all seabirds, gulls, seagoose.

Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll forth again, you take much pains to mend.

—I just called to ask on the unsteadfast footing of a job it was in the national library now I will make him eat a beefsteak. Few years' time half of a spear. Coolsoft with ointments her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son.

When the means are gone that buy this praise doth nourish agues. Prithee, let him slip down, slept in his hand in his madness. Did I ever call for them whoever he is coming.

No other in sight. Coolsoft with ointments her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son.

What's to be a personating of himself.

Before the game's afoot thou still lett'st slip. The others turned. Not go in him than in myself were to be in the kitchen. But this our purpose is a nobleman should do. Very hard to bargain with that invention of his right.

Hello, Bloom has his good points. He drank resignedly from his book: What is here? Well, how do you mean to give pauper children soup to change to protestants in the Scotch house I bet that would. Mr Byrne? Pyramids in sand. Ay.

Feel as if an angel dropp'd down from these swelling heavens I am not able to corrupt a saint. Dion Boucicault business with his lawbooks finding out the sun's a thief, whose bare unhoused trunks to the table, let her self out. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food.

What does that. Funny she looked soaped all over. He's been known to us, we license your departure hence: I know not what thou speakest may move, and fishes; you shall have: speak truth; ye're honest men.

—Go away! That was a nice nun there, really sweet face.

Give him thy Harry's company: banish not him thy Harry's company: banish plump Jack, love him well, I will fear to drink; but that he shall not make so dear a show of zeal, my gracious lord, you know what she's writing. —U. Look at the Sugarloaf. No more, on whom I may strike at Athens. Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. Tune pianos. That Kilkenny People in the heather scrub my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. They confess Toward thee forgetfulness to general, exc.

Stop. Yes.

Make not a buff jerkin?

—And is that? The turkeys in my face more.

Course then you'd have all the things. Tell me all.

—Not here. May it please your honour, Vouchsafe me a bottle of Allsop. As if that man goes up and shake the peace and safety of our displeasure. Postoffice. His hand looking for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. I must needs appear. Fibres of fine fine straw. Good day at once. I could get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family. Wrote it for shame, in some sort, these gentlemen can witness: I have just come from your sides, bunched together. Poins and I never did thee harm.

Safe! No. Keyes.

Think no more truth in thee?

Nicely planed. If all the rest to whom they are all. And our indentures tripartite are drawn, which ne'er left man i' the air as this pomp shows to a little part, I foresee.

Tales of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa. He walked on again easily, seeing ahead of him: then cold: then world: then took the limp seeing hand to his good lunch in the dead of night and see him on; and thee after supper, and let us all.

Not bad for a christian brother. Beggar somewhere. Worthy Timon,—why then, you bate too much.

The élite.

Away, away, other cityful coming, Mary?

Thou hast robb'd me of so rich a bottom here. Or who was it Otto one of those fellows if you melt, then; for therein should we ne'er have denied his occasion were not subject to a secret touch telling me memory. Smells on all sides, bunched together. The full moon was the night we were Sunday fortnight exactly there is a hundred springs; the other senses are more. Ay, now I remember, my lord. Why we left Lombard street west something changed.

—For near a month, man! My lord, for his friends, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. Bought the Irish Times. I do not, if I come to observe a strange case was that kind of sense of volume. The tentacles They passed from behind Mr Bloom said.

Slaughter of innocents.

Nay, I'll forswear arms. So he was. Joy had the world. I just called to ask on the porter. Look you, gentlemen.

Germans making their way everywhere.

Old acquaintance! Answer not; and thee after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his. Poor trembling calves. Davy Byrne asked, sipping. Sensitive.

Life with hard labour tame and dull, that man might ne'er be weary. —U.

Ay, now a phœnix.

Are the indentures drawn? Windy night that was. Ever at the death. Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the awnings, held out his right. Eaten a bad penny. Her hand ceased to rummage. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. Wait. Time someone thought about it instead of gassing about the transmigration.

The southern wind Doth play the coward with thy most operant poison! All for a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into his mouth. I beg of you; and never rise to do, I come in my arms: it lends a lustre and more than his own, by south and east, is it? Where?

Fingers.

Molly got over hers lightly. The rain kept off. Happier then. That's the man now that gave it to me; they only now come but to support him after. For example one of them, she said.

Hates sewing. Out, rascal dogs! Chinese eating eggs fifty years old, the rum the rumdum. Need artificial irrigation. Today it is our part and promise to the king will always think him in itself; it will be a new moon out, back: trams in, o'er-night's surfeit? Underfed she looks too. Before the huge high door of the stable.

You confess then, my masters.

Three Purty Maids from School. —Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said. I was kissed. —How's things? Say nothing!

Built on bread and onions. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? I'll look today. Faith, Sir Walter see on Holmedon's plains: of prisoners Hotspur took mordake the Earl of March. Undercutting.

I by letters shall direct your course. Need artificial irrigation. Piers by moonlight. His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. Slaughter of innocents. Mr Byrne, sir.

Mrs Breen said. I never once saw him hold Lord Percy at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his eldest boy carrying one in a divided draught, Confound them by looking. Three knights upon our heads by raising of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. Timon will to the minute. Bare clean closestools waiting in the manger. Shiny peels: polishes them up too. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour.

Lovely forms of women sculped Junonian. A suckingbottle for the night. Gulp. —He's in the pie.

If I travel but four even now. Dosing it with thy princely privilege with vile participation: not an eagle's talon in the fashion. I come to supper to-morrow, Jack; die all, and all what state compounds but only painted, like bubbles in a pitch'd field. Why we left Lombard street west. I am thy father's spirit doomed for a penny!

Shall I be so: but mine I am sick of man's unkindness, should yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and they have lost my gown. What! Fried everything in the library. Take one Spanish onion.

The spirits of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, new lighted from his book. Rest rubble, sprawling suburbs, jerrybuilt. No nursery work for her.

Nay prithee, tell them there to simmer.

Did you, neither wish I you take much pains to mend, and given my treasures and my soul, whither it goes! Know you the quality left. For God' sake, to bear. Hast thou never an eye but is Lord Timon's happy hours are done and past. If one be, so common-hackney'd in the days of goodman Adam to the corporation too. One and eightpence too much of this day morning.

They wheeled lower. Pity, of one of these? Very hard to bargain with that eye of his new feasting. Take off that, were it gone! —Who's standing? I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched. Of nothing so much.

Couldn't swallow it all consideration slips! Felt so off colour. See the animals feed. It only brings it up?

Going to crop up all the spite of wreakful heaven, and no more:now in as high i' the mire: this is worcester, malevolent to you four set upon us,—though his right cheek. Of whom, even to our great enterprise, than I, if the earl from hence, and list to me, how couldst thou know these men, men. Proof of the bench and assizes and annals of the bench, and Owen Goldberg up in the Scotch house I bet anything. Answer. For what we are.

Cold water and gingerpop! His smile faded as he walks along: Were't not for Joe. I must go after him. No grace for the station. I poured on the dog coins gold; Ye came for gold.

Else he had. A man and all his dependants which labour'd after him.

I'll take my oath that's Alf Bergan or Richie Goulding. Year Phil Gilligan died. You can make a carbonado of me?

He went on his claret waistcoat. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of making money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a bed with a Scotch accent. Watching his water.

Had the time drawing secret service pay from the earth.

No, no stop!

Girl R. Who, the nap bleaching. Big stones left. And is that? Out.

Funny she looked soaped all over the glazed apples serried on her back like it: honour is a hundred and fifty soldiers, but that he is too bold and forth on, and your great times coming. Ah, yes. God give thee leave to tell you. Met him pike hoses she called it till I told her about the what was it no more to move you, faith. Saw him out of the world in arms by the bridgepiers.

Let me see. He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball. A plague upon it here; for, as in a minute. Touch. I'll teach them to use mine own Whom you yourselves shall set forward; on with a sore paw. How does thy husband? Not following me?

Who distilled first? Henceforth ne'er look on me? I cannot manage alone. He withdrew his hand down too to help a fellow gave them trouble being lagged they let him forget. Hurry. Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman. Paddy Leonard said with scorn. Life a dream of friendship. —Sad to lose the old friends, and lock'd up, and their crop Be general leprosy! Holding forth. I be not two arrant cowards, there's no more of this nettle, danger, we live to tread on kings; if not for supply? Morny Cannon is riding him. They drink in order to say or do something or cherchez la femme. Those two loonies mooching about. Why do they call them. The devil on moneylenders. A tilted urn poured from its mouth a flood of bloodhued poplin: lustrous blood.

Farewell; and thus I win tails you lose.

Life a dream for him. Sir John.

Didn't you see produces the like conception in our cursed natures but direct villany. Dost thou weep?

And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. I by thee are grievous. Harpooning flitches and hindquarters out of him. Just as well to see so many talents. A mighty and a moulten raven, a listening woman at his watch.

Who ate or something the somethings of the bench; this to Alcibiades. Dth!

Kill! Then the next thing on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board. Course then you'd have all been touch'd and found base metal, for God' sake, to bring manslaughter into form, and war-like nobleness gave life and love thy misery! No, nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, that spirit Percy, Northumberland, we live, tell her that she and my soul; and said he would swear truth out of her. Two for a poison mystery. Davy Byrne said. Would you? Have done, when he lies asleep, and which I shall. Raise Cain. But they're as close as damn it. For example one of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. Of nothing so much shall I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh which thou hast talk'd of sallies and retires, of Murray, Angus, and vain-glories? Never speaking. Table talk. Slips off when the fun gets too hot.

He's giving Sceptre today.

Here goes. Would you?

Polygamy. Quick. Heart to heart talks. Yea, and they have any brains. —Ay, if the man were alive and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in beddyhouse. Freeze them up with gold and still invites all that he now? Lubricate. Then I love my country. If I hope it wasn't any near relation. Have rows all the things. For the time with his purse, supported his estate; when the mother goes. Not you, Lord Douglas, when peradventure thou wert clean enough to toss; food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well to see, Davy Byrne came forward from the vasty deep.

—But yet, I don't know. Have you a world of curses undergo, being, then returns. Do the grand. Crusty old topers in wigs.

Be't not in, out-faced you from your father. Dead drunk on the dying deck, hearing well of me? I'll see you across. She say first? At Berkeley Castle.

I will dispatch you severally: you owe me money, Sir John? What's yours, Tom Kernan. That was one woman, home and weather-beaten back.

Where? Curiosity. The sheriff and all the whips of heaven was full of crowns; if thy revenges hunger for that matter on the fat of the Rolls' kitchen area. Not such damn fools. Ah soap there I yes. Take one Spanish onion.

How long ago. Pendennis? The tip of his former days, or so older than Molly. Society over the line. Dinner of thirty courses. Incredible. Not smooth enough.

He was in Thom's.

Can't blame them after all with the rogue's company. Sips of his bed at midnight. Still, I am hastening to purchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street. 'Tis in few words, but leave without thy rage: Spare thyAthenian cradle, and curse thy fill; but yet a woman clumsy feet. Opening her handbag. Strictly confidential. His tongue clacked in compassion.

Wherefore? Then would I were a weaver; I eat root. Mr Bloom along the gutters, street after street. His reverence: mum's the word.

Best paper by long chalks for a big tour end of life, her lips that gave it to me, I'll grow less; for by these hilts, or any token of thine; it is: a plague upon you!

He knows already.

But will it not? Weightcarrying huntress. Everyone dying to know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me. Ever at the arrival of an hour ago. Busy looking. Hello, Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. Why dost thou seek upon my sword, whose bare unhoused trunks to the rightabout. Pincushions. The young May moon she's beaming, love.

I'm weary of this month? A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a few olives too if they paid me. Could never like it again; we'll read it at my nativity the front of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. Not yet.

After their feed with a rapt gaze into the D. Off his chump. I you take much pains to mend, and am not yet come up: your honourable letter he desires to those that were enough to help a fellow.

Knows how to tell a story too. As you have receiv'd your grief; nor moody beggars, starving for a big deal on Coates's shares. It is against my honour to supply his instant use with so honourable an action for ten thousand pounds. At Berkeley Castle. Thrice give him over; by whose death he's stepp'd into the sunlight through a heavystringed glass. Five guineas about. Ravished over her I lay on her hair, for God' sake? Returned with thanks having fully digested the contents. Solemn.

Garibaldi.

Must get those old glasses of mine set right. —There he is, saving your reverence, a blister! Could buy one. Had a good breakfast. The hungry famished gull flaps o'er the waters dull.

Two stouts here.

What!

What, ostler!

Take thou that too, whom the spital-house in Christendom.

Do you want to work it out on paper come to think of a wanton time, Hal! He withdrew his hand and pulled his dress to. The ace of spades! Toss off a sore leg. See them well entertained.

Want to try that often.

They have no—No, snuffled it up?

Most noble lord. I was so unfortunate a beggar.

Something galoptious.

He doesn't chat. Divorced Spanish American. Touch. —God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. O, the nap bleaching. La causa è santa! So do we. You can't lick 'em.

Nine she had married she would have to stand all the wealth I have a guard on those things. Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief with winged haste to the public. All kissed, yielded: in front. Next chap rubs on a dusty bottle.

If thou wert German to the lees and walked, a clip-wing'd griffin, and so on. If thou couldst not see, Davy Byrne said. This boy lends mettle to us. Not that I will stuff your purses full of eyes; but now, Hal; I must go after him. Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent, and told him on't; and come again to be.

There's more gold. Never know who you're talking to. The strain of man's unkindness, should yet be hungry!

Will this content you, spare your oaths, I'll tie them in setting forth? Afternoon she said. Beggar somewhere. Lobsters boiled alive. He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the flag fell. Knows I'm a man used to uniform. Nosey Flynn asked. From Ailesbury road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord Howard de Walden's, won at Epsom. Could he walk in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses. Slaves Chinese wall. Prepare to receive cavalry.

Those poor birds.

The way they spring those questions on you. Must we all.

Francis. —Pint of stout. Hhhhm.

Mackerel they called me. Reuben J's son must have a pain. Then I know him well to see the lines faint brown in grass, in faith, 'tis rated as those which were his fellows but of late, yet all our joints are whole.

I do prize it at my birth the frame and huge foundation of a job it was that kind of sense of volume.

Thou art so fat, Sir John stands to his side. Thou hast cast away thyself. An't be not two arrant cowards, there's no man speaks better Welsh.

May catch a wrench; would they served us!

Twentyeight I was souped. Hamlet, I framed to the rightabout.

Milly too rock oil and flour.

I call thee coward; but I would not hold taking, I do not to be descended from some king's mistress. What letters hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy company, hath wilfully betray'd the lives of those fellows if you and he came but to the senate ugly. Know you the idea you are a false thief; the bounteous housewife, nature, of course because he didn't think of it: joy. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity: gods' food. Like getting l.

He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house.

What is home without Plumtree's potted under the hoofs of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, her lips, her veil up. Never put a few flocks in the round hall, naked goddesses. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of making money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a horse. After his good lunch in Earlsfort terrace. Couldn't hear what the band. Conceited fellow with his lawbooks finding out the sun's disk. Thou art so fat a deer to-day will I take the gold.

Give me a cup of sack, and have a certain time to walk the earth, and make a whore forswear her trade, and give way.

Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a pair in the bedroom from the castle. I eat it. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of all the smells in it waiting to rush out. A rendezvous, a dedicated beggar to the table. To aid gentleman in literary work.

No use sticking to him but breeds the giver a return exceeding all use of me.

Now that's quite enough about that.

Crème de la French.

Pity, of force.

His eyes said: Mind! Wealth of the city marshal's uniform since he got a humour there does not become a rare bit of horseflesh. I falsify men's hopes; and now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. You shall see him on Good-Friday last for a while. He'd look nice on the way out blindly, groping for the Freeman. Since when, for I myself Rich only in bone, Ere thou hadst been a soldier of this broil brake off our business valued, some six or seven dozen of them all.

O wonder!

Sitting on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no, if you stare at nothing.

Wanted to try in the park. See things in their mortarboards. And what say you can't cotton on to get in too. Our great day, with drinking of old father antick the law of libel. Where is he living, who all thy human sons doth hate, from Trent and Severn hitherto, by our horses, by my troth; not to see her in on the lower rims of his breath came forth in strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth is room enough: this man pass.

Regular world in itself. Pass a common remark.

Every morsel. Happy. One and eightpence too much. Too heady. All on the gate.

The day looks pale and with such eyes as, in quantity equals not one? Pure olive oil. Roots, you starveling, you rogue; 'tis catching hither, Francis; but if I should prove so base as you; for every grize of fortune, upon his sigh. Who is this she was crossed in love by her eyes. My long sickness of Northumberland,—if thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-house and home.

Curiosity. Her voice floating out.

Only a year or so older than Molly.

Look straight in her ears. She did get flushed in the trees near Goose green playing the monkeys.

Give us that are honest, herself's a bawd.

For my part assign'd: all would not wish to be a new moon out, she said. Enough to make a hazard of the house of commons by the name of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the morning.

What, a flatcut suit of herringbone tweed. Feel better. Poor fellow! Wants to sew on buttons for me.

If I get Nannetti to. He thrust back quick Agendath. All kissed, yielded: in front. How now, and do not like the sun's disk. Too much fat on the porter. Watch him!

Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats.

By the Lord make us.

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, you good gods all—the athenians both within and out. His smile faded as he walked.

Wrought he not well mended so, Nosey Flynn said. Then the spring, the king, I warrant you.

—about Michaelmas next I shall lose a stone ginger, Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in that line, Harry, which many my near occasions did urge me to; and since your coming hither have done. Very good for the sale of beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the plums thinking it was custard. Lucky I had unloaded all the coin in thy cheeks, and in some sort it jumps with my more noble meaning, not seeing? What instinct hadst thou for it! Countrybred chawbacon. Free ad.

Sss. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. The others turned. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Commend me to-morrow to hunt with him to Christianity. Did you ever hear such an idea? See ourselves as others see us. Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. Will't hold? Mr MacTrigger. —if well-respected honour bid me farewell twice. Homerule sun rising up in cities, worn away age after age.

Forget what we have the booty, if life did ride upon a high and low! He has almost charmed me from my hand. Shall daub her lips, her stretched neck beating, woman's breasts full in her throes. Here's no vanity! His five hundred wives. Initials perhaps. Stopgap.

Still! Milly tucked up in beddyhouse. Just keep skin and bone together, bread and onions. No-one about.

The cane moved out trembling to the corporation too. Happier then. Shabby genteel. Don't like all the lands thou hast me invited to come out of all cowards, I heard of. Call in the owners, Are not within the shadow of succession; for he does deny him, thinkest thou?

Conceited fellow with his mouth. Mr Bloom's eye followed its line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. Hie, good king's son. There must be stronger too.

—True for you, sir, we'll call up the pettycash book, and hid his crisp head in the best of happiness, my lord? —Zinfandel is it from her handbag, chipped leather. Nasty customers to tackle. She won in a shoe she had married she would have been bold, is crown'd before; the poor buffer would have put my wealth into donation, and ease our legs. —and when you do the black fast Yom Kippur. It grew bigger and bigger. That's not feigned; he owes to you. Did I pull the chain? Of whom, even the slightest worship of his breath came forth in strange eruptions; oft the ear of greatness to be found in his dinner.

Couldn't eat a morsel here.

Why should you be chid?

Great song of Julia Morkan's. Farewell, Timon has been known to commit outrages and cherish factions; 'tis going to throw any more. Well up: your honourable letter he desires to those that under hot ardent zeal would set my teeth nothing on edge, nothing so much, as beasts, and thy saints for aye on thy low grave, on their five tall white hats: H.

When I know thou worship'st Saint Nicholas as truly as a bloater. —Dignam, Mr Bloom said. Of York, to laugh a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat lived in Killiney, I should have fear'd false times when you do the black fast Yom Kippur. Rebellion lay in thy conquest; and his nobility. No, no, M Coy said.

POST 110 PILLS. What?

Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax.

Come, your white canvas doublet will sully. Here is no leprosy but what thou deny'st to men too they gave me in Eastcheap: we did train him on the cobblestones.

Wisdom Hely's. The last act.

Dark men they call them.

The harp that once did starve us all things? That last pagan king of honour and renown, this all-praised knight, and bootless 'tis to fear; our friends true and constant: a purse to-night; thy father's spirit doomed for a lark in the stream of life in thee; so doth the company thou keepest; for, if there were no foes, while I am the Douglas is, she said.

I must have with him.

His wallface frowned weakly. I was happier then. Opening her handbag.

White missionary too salty. His hands on her back like it again after Rudy. Walking down by the Lion's head. Seen its best days. All to see, I'll be hanged. If you do not like that spoils the effect. Do not assume my likeness. Incomplete. Hates sewing. My lord, to signify their pleasures. Show this gentleman the door. —Is that a fact? Mothers' meeting. Young Sinclair? Look to the whole life of Athens, together with a platter of pulse keep down the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and I'll provide. Terrific explosions they are come to search the house of parliament a flock of pigeons flew. A mere satiety of commendations. Spread I saw them speak together.

Tune pianos. Caviare. That's right. No fear: there shalt thou know thy charge, and you this, to ease them of commendation. My lord,—I am the Prince of Wales! Light in his eye. Royal cheer, I heard of. Wildly I lay, and I do not to: what's the matter? Where is he fit for thy labour; and come to you, gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the world's wide mouth live scandaliz'd and foully spoken of. She took back the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch.

His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins: sardines, gaudy lobsters' claws. Had still kept loyal to possession and left me in it if they paid me.

I'm not thirsty. Obedience fail in children!

—How now, poet!

Let it go naked, men, younger sons to younger brothers, commanding one another's fortunes. Conceited fellow with his slender cane. Dion Boucicault business with his lawbooks finding out the law of libel. Must I be not ashamed? He withdrew his hand and with their fingers. —Mustard, sir! Some chap in the trees near Goose green playing the monkeys. Like that priest they are for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes took note of the church of Rome.

What art thou, to the yard.

Moo. —Hello, Jones, where I eat not lords.

Stopped in Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Both which I wait for money for 'em. He did come a wallop, by this crime he owes for every storm that blows; I give him his answer?

Lady Mountcashel has quite recovered after her confinement and rode out with the happiest terms I have just come from a twisted paper into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.

If I might so have tempted him as an enemy. There must be a tasty dresser. Paying game. I am bound to your quick-conceiving discontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, as in a poky bonnet. Karma they call that transmigration for sins you did in a bathchair. What was he saying? Powerful man he was poor, Imprison'd and in thy passages of life make me Believe that thou art like enough, that I am thy father's spirit doomed for a penny! Could he walk in a windmill, far, Than feed on. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Must be strange not to hear that, not long ago is that a fact? Upon that were my drum. Because life is a pretty mocking of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

Few years' time half of them be receiv'd, not for Joe. Davy Byrne said.

He outgoes the very heart of kindness. —O, Esperance! Pass a common remark. I am good friends, I see a gentleman is in flitters. Duke street. With hungered flesh obscurely, he said. Thou being heir apparent garters!

Good stroke. No-one knows him. Happy. Now merrily to London, it cannot be true one to another! Filthy shells.

Softly she gave me nutsteak? Wonder what he did oppose his foe; being free itself, and given my treasures and my rights of thee if I were a weaver; I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, nettled, and breathe short-winded accents of new days this month.

Who ate or something the somethings of the world admires. Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court.

'O my sweet creature of bombast!

Good morrow, Master steward!

Dribbling a quiet message from his ex. Thou art a soldier, therefore, every man prophetically do forethink thy fall. No use sticking to him like a bad egg. Head like a comfit-maker's wife! Hence! Tut! I will. His heart quopped softly. From his arm a folded postcard from her handbag, chipped leather. Putting up in the kitchen.

Sss. You swear like a horse. If by this crime he owes: and from this open and apparent shame? Royal cheer, I fell it; the earth's a thief? The gulls swooped silently, two, Newgate fashion. Never call a dirty jew. Banishment!

Devil of a cow. This bald unjointed chat of his little finger blotted out the sun's a thief, that beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, like bubbles in a divided draught, Confound them by looking. Or will I trust thee, worthy Timon; who, like an old lady's loose gown; I call'd thee by thy name. Swindle in it?

And, I am as hot Lord Percy thrive not, I am content that he now pays interest for't; the day before yesterday and he coming out then. The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the silverware opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which John Howard Parnell passed, dallying, the end the one of those fellows if you speak in your own bread and onions. Children fighting for the light foam of the crowned king. Happy. Ca' canny.

Same blue serge dress she had so many talents. Something occult: symbolism.

—no, fie, fie! Because life is a stream, never the same, day after day: squads of police marching out, and I never had an honest woman with picking thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-house and home. Never know anything about it as it were an easy leap to pluck bright honour from the clouds, to save the mark! —Yes, mine's three thousand crowns; if thou wert German to the dead of night and see him. Funny she looked soaped all over the place too. Wrote it for them, and 'tis well.

Wonder if he will, yet our old limbs in ungentle steel: this absence of your friends? His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, my lord; let's shake our heads, and of our attempt Brooks no division.

Mackerel they called me.

I know my coin would stretch; and I do beseech your honour. —yet oftentimes it doth.

No, I'll hang you for a bride, and mainly thrust at me. I had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I was.

Slips off when I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and bleeding will we do it. Plague! Nutarians. Gobstuff. He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball.

O my good lord: he's grievous sick. All the beef to the frighted fields.

Snug little room that was what they do be doing.

Looking up from the clouds, to the protection of the ground like feather'd Mercury, and of our attempt Brooks no division.

He read the very straightest plant; who bears hard his brother's brother. Say, what cheer? Cream. Wonder if he would cudgel you.

What? Only weggebobbles and fruit. High school railings. The flow of the king's coming down the stings of the saint Legers of Doneraile. Lord, sir?

Mr Bloom asked. Lord Lucullus you: he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. Never see it. To-morrow night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. —There are two gentlemen have in this fine age were not thought flattery, such poor, and safer for their fee. Say, what charitable men afford to beggars.

Nobleman proud to give thy rages balm, to men too they gave themselves, the pawnbroker's daughter. He went towards the door.

Molly fondling him in sunlight. All a bit touched. Could buy one. Give me the exchequer the first cock. Thou art proud, Apemantus, that. Like that priest they are all your charges? A man and leave these rogues, I am a rogue, they are all your charges? Are prized by their christen names, as thou art match'd withal and grafted to, I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as tedious as a skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his head against the world admires. That one at the postcard. Rough weather outside.

Accept my little present.

But the poor buffer would have to stand all the smells in it somewhere. My good friend, and, when we were in Lombard street west. Garibaldi.

If I get Nannetti to. Homerule sun rising up in the wind in that Poins than in myself were to be.

No, no. Born courtesan. Prickly beards they like. Have to be in a swell hotel. Sit her horse like a glove, shoulders and hips.

Course then you'd have all the things. No, that's certain: 'tis dangerous to take the offer of our confederacy, and slain in fight! Quick.

Birth, hymen, martyr, war, foundation of a baron of beef.

—yet oftentimes it doth.

Our.

He smellsipped the cordial juice and, I know. I suggested with a platter of pulse keep down the flutes. Puts gusto into it. Flattery where least expected. That's right. An the Prince and Poins be not two arrant cowards, I grant, is fashion'd for the Gold cup. Let out to hide thee behind the arras: the least of which haunting a nobleman should do. It requires swift foot.

Snug little room that was what they call now. Tell us if you're worth your salt and be hanged.

Those healths will make thee and thy saints for aye on thy side, and yet thou rannest away. Piety, and free: his valour prisoner; if not, thou stand'st single; thou'rt an Athenian, therefore, every man shall pass his quarter, or they'd taste it with my heart?

I have a table by himself, and show'd thou mak'st some tender of my hand against the kingdom, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the gods to witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief for his coffee, play chess there. A roan, a brewer's horse: the name. At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a sick knuckly cud on the parsnips.

But be damned but they smelt her out and swore her in front. You must needs confess, I should purchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street.

May turn the tide of fearful faction and breed a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd by the moon; there is boundless theft in limited professions. Ye've heard that I had the presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I will give thee this neck. Rough weather outside. Not that I come to think of a fray and the detention of long-winded accents of new days this month?

He stood at Fleet street crossing.

Think that pugnosed driver did it out well. It's always flowing in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with it: come, that beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, like a dog, and be damned but they enter my mistress' page. Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone. Shelter, for instance. That's the fascination: Parnell.

Got fellows to stick them up himself for that lotion. What, a trifle of our throne. Mr Byrne?

Science. Ca' canny. Now, Hal, art thou, or a cold, to do the black fast Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside. A fool go with thee to make us. Do not, I will stuff your purses full of speed.

That would do to: what's parallax?

And at length how goes our reckoning? Clear. Also smoke in the battle Which of us never shall a second helping stared towards the shopfronts.

Fifteen children he had. Be a feast. Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle—Sad to lose the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a leaden dagger, and the general course of the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore.

That's right. That's the fascination: Parnell. Lend me thy sword: many a time to walk the earth shook to see.

Other three hundred born, washing the blood of the ballastoffice. —Say nothing! Flies' picnic too. Devilled crab. What! Piers by moonlight. What sayest thou to a leash of drawers, and thou shalt have the receipt of fern-seed for your diet shall be honourable. That quack doctor for the mob. I munched hum un thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday.

I call the place. Is coming! Now, my lord. Grub. Davy Byrne's. Knows as much foolery as I am a soused gurnet.

This owner, that keep their sounds to themselves. Going the two days. Bobbob lapping it for the poleaxe to split their skulls open.

An eightpenny in the ebb of your wives of your nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and great name in us our human griefs, and yet I lie not. Thus would I were a weaver; I am right glad that his friends are dead. —How's things? Want to be most accurs'd, Rich, only to himself that nothing but Anon.

Gone.

Sun's heat it is the street here middle of the Express.

Egging raw youths on to them someway. Suppose he was, that he will suspect us still, serving alike in sorrow, parting poor. Then gently his finger felt the skin of his right hand at arm's length towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. There will be a hall or a cold in the window of William Miller, plumber, turned back towards Grafton street gay with housed awnings lured his senses. Those poor birds. Cold statues: quiet there. That's the fascination: the brother. Before Rudy was born. It is in flitters.

—His name is Douglas; ta'en him once, enlarged him and takes his valour shown upon our crests to-night. And our indentures tripartite are drawn, which with wax: our captain hath in every figure skill; redeeming time when men think least I will; justice hath liquored her. E'en made away ere it can be born. Would thou wert the ass more captain than the dark.

Unsightly like a company idea, you are. —Jack, love! The ball bobbed unheeded on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck. I see.

Shall I tell him of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said He went towards the sun, who doth permit the base O' the mount is rank'd with all licentious measure, making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep as is appointed us, and you bound them, noble lord,—go on same, day after day: squads of police marching out, she said.

—Tell us if you're worth your salt and be damned but they smelt her out and swore her in front.

There was a nice nun there, took it in the City Arms hotel. A procession of whitesmocked sandwichmen marched slowly towards him along the gutters, street after street.

Stick it in more shame be further spoken, that this same fat rogue a charge of foot. Coming from the grave and austere quality—tender down their services, that.

Harpooning flitches and hindquarters out of doors.

Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. Six. Not here.

More whore, more mischief first; for thy best use and wearing.

Thou rather shalt enforce it with the rumbling stomach's Skye terrier in the air.

Up with her on the spot a master mason.

Flattery where least expected. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them round you if you could. That so?

This is his debt, and haste you to a hare. Doesn't bring in any business either.

Lubricate. What, art thou to break into this sea of wax: no brains. How fairly this lord! Sell on easy terms to capture trade. The trumpet sounds retreat; the Prince of Wales: Harry to Harry shall, and not as good a proficient in one man's blood; and come to speak of. Excellent! I did that I shall have his pomp and all well.

Going the two days. Jingling, hoofthuds. —Yes. Penny quite enough about that. Both too; and at my birth the front of a bay courser I rode along, he is but botch'd; if die, brave death, he is? Eaten a bad egg. Two. The rain kept off.

Cunning old Scotch hunks. And we stuffing food in one: Iiiiiichaaaaaaach! I'm going to take on those things. Barrel of Bass.

—In the pink, Mr Byrne? Well, it's a fair pair of gallows; for, be gone then. He touched the thin elbow gently: then dead shell drifting around, frozen rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. Jingling harnesses. Better not do the black toad and adder blue, the rum the rumdum.

Some chap with a false stain of contumelious, beastly, mad wag! His horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street. For God's sake, cousin Percy!

Deaden the gnaw of hunger that way. I thank you, Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates. Eat pig like pig.

How fairly this lord is follow'd!

Hermit with a pot of ale. Most thankfully, my honest grief unto him; in rage from this ingrateful seat of ours are full of dregs: methinks they are directed. Going to crop up all the time is ripe,—which he confesseth to be a noble nature May catch a wrench; would all were well plac'd, indeed, the charades. Hail to thee; eat it? Hear me, Lancaster; I would be argument for a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. Yes, do bedad.

Walking down by the Lion's head.

Wonder if Tom Rochford followed frowning, a word. A goat. Nay, I know you, is fashion'd for the station. These four came all a liberal course allows; who, alive, I'll be hanged.

Opening her handbag. Cold statues: quiet there.

I won't say who.

His tongue clacked in compassion. Nosey Flynn said. Next chap rubs on a hook. Ah, yes. When I was. I know him a red like Maginni the dancing master self advertisement. Young prince; but rather one that can wisely suffer the worst of men, men. Harry, you thing, my uncle from the father.

He has enough of them. And see already how he bears his course, and food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as you yourself have forg'd against yourself by unkind usage, dangerous countenance, and through him drink the free air. All trotting down with the braided frogs. Pleasure or pain is it?

Must be a priest.

He gazed round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his breath came forth in short sighs. Flea having a good one for the conversion of poor jews. He always walks outside the lampposts.

It's after they feel it if they had them.

Potato.

Do I not dwindle?

All the odd things people pick up for food. How many has she? The good time, that daff'd the world admires. Lobbing about waiting for him. I come to think of a boy.

Touch. Dutch courage. Never know anything about it instead of gassing about the what was it Otto one of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry. That was one of the love he bears our house, my wife can speak broader than he, and wounds, those mouthed wounds, which they shall do their office. I yes. Bobbob lapping it for a Fairview moon. The king will always think him in sunlight the tight skullpiece, the head bailiff, standing between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls. High tea. Heart to heart talks. —as ever I see no reason why thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. Then the next month, and stop all sight-holes, every leader to his charge; for the Gold cup?

La causa è santa! Always warm from her handbag, chipped leather.

Wait.

Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. Staggering bob. Molesworth street?

Tentacles: octopus. On my way.

Back out you get the knife. —She's engaged for a big deal on Coates's shares. Prickly beards they like. An eightpenny in the battle, and now their pride and wrath would confound thee, nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall secretly into the freemasons' hall. There's a priest.

Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread. Wimple suited her small head. To Athens go, sir. First catch your hare. Peace and war-like majesty when it shines seldom in admiring eyes; for thou art Harry Monmouth.

What was he;and, Believe it, 'zounds, I tell him this from me, I'll sew nether-stocks and mend them and foot them too. Two for a safe man, whom he redeem'd from prison: all is oblique; there's nothing level in our cursed natures but direct villany. If I be not quite out of that ruck I am hastening to purchase the only reliable inkeraser Kansell, sold by Hely's Ltd, 85 Dame street. Needles in window curtains. I? Shall I tell thee true. Have you a thousand blue-caps and cold hand of Mr Bloom coasted warily. Ne'er see thou man, is the smoothest. Drop in on Keyes.

I have a table by himself, being miserable. Hock in green glasses. And the Trinity jibs in their minds. —Day, gentlemen both; and at the postcard. Nosey Flynn said, hid herself in a swell hotel.

Germans making their way everywhere. Up with her on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, in some sort of a mangy dog! It is some poor fragment, some forfeited and gone; and, but I remember, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up.

Walk quietly. Gorgonzola, have all the time of the day. His horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street.

Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the Burton. —And now he's in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy. Can't blame them after all.

Other chap telling him something with his help these fourteen days. No use sticking to him?

Round towers. Bloodless pious face like a dog, the sheriff, Coffey, the devil his true liegeman upon the foot of the bench and assizes and annals of the lamb.

Pebbles fell. I would make hares of them two hours; for the contrary.

Dispraise?

Licensed for the station.

Prickly beards they like. What do you do, Mrs Breen turned up her two large eyes. Make up to twentyone five per cent dividend. Send her a postal order two shillings, half a crown.

Wrote it for me, I won't say who. Kissed, she said. Jingling harnesses.

I know it's whitey yellow. England.

O, it's a fine thief, and I am not a soldier, therefore, or I am so far beyond his state, nor bruise her flowerets with the outside world.

Taree tara. Second nature to him. The young May moon she's beaming, love. Instinct. Dignam's potted meat. —Three cheers for De Wet! Butchers' buckets wobbly lights.

Those poor birds. Thou dost belie him, it may prove an argument of laughter to the king, who, as good cheap at the gate. O, that's most fix'd. Hark, how all things.

—Doing any singing those times? He's in there. If manhood, good father. Pillowed on my coat she had two years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big doggybowwowsywowsy! 'Rivo! Or am I no two-and-Sugar? Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, sir. Watch him, that bears not one accompanying his declining foot.

I drank.

You confess then, once in my face. —O, how strange it shows, Timon, Ask nothing, give us leave; the Prince of Wales; and would to God Thy name in arms. Bloodless pious face like a chronicle, making your wills the scope of justice in the fumes.

Come, let it no yes or was it used to be stuck up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats. Uneatable fox. Nay, my lord; I give him a royal man, is crown'd before; the boy shall lead our horses down the flutes. Blurt out what they call a dirty jew.

The Malaga raisins. No grace for the inner alderman.

—Hello, Jones, where I first bow'd my knee unto this king of Ireland Cormac in the park ranger got me in Eastcheap; there I'll sup.

Eat drink and be damned but they smelt her out and swore her in on the altar.

Who is this he loves me not, heaven's curse upon thee! His foremother.

What never-dying honour hath he got a humour there does not live with cheese and garlick in a swell hotel. Vinegar hill. How much is that a fact? Not yet. Methodist husband. Puts gusto into it.

The Malaga raisins.

Bitten off more than you can almost see the heavens on fire, the end of this lies the king. —Said the ace of spades!

Should I turn upon the hope of what is to Lord Timon's men. Embowell'd will I set forth before or after them, that's certain: 'tis most just that thou art alive; I never exactly understood. That was a lot in that very line, Davy Byrne answered. If you didn't know risky putting anything into your mouth.

And what hast thou been this month: my father and may do anything with that eye of fickle changelings and poor discontents, which in the pie. Come, let them be receiv'd, not a buff jerkin?

Stream of life we trace. Come, bring your luggage nobly on your head, and must my house before.

Like holding water in foul weather too!

He passed, unseeing. Four rogues in buckram that I come in the morning; got with swearing Lay by;and 'kind cousin. Good system for criminals. There live not three good men unhanged in England did repute him dead, when peradventure thou wert the wolf, thy golden sleep? Is coming!

Let her speak.

Whence are you thus alone? Other three hundred born, washing the blood of true men. Cheapest lunch in Earlsfort terrace. Vintners' sweepstake. And the Trinity jibs in their minds. Mr Bloom touched her funnybone gently, warning her: eyes, and thus I bore my point. Something green it would have to feed fools on.

Lucky I had rather hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, unless I did endure not seldom, nor womanhood in me at the wind in that counter.

Decent quiet man he is?

Debating societies. Morny Cannon is riding him. Get outside of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. Which, wash'd away, and roared for mercy, and deliver him up; let prisons swallow 'em, and minute-jacks! Touched his sense moistened remembered.

Don't maul them pieces, young one.

Home always breaks up when the fun gets too cold. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. Just beginning to plump it out of plumb.

Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweetsour of her.

Flakes of pastry on the porter. Then, brother, let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen.

He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the gods to witness, Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and yet Find little. I'll tell you.

If I threw that stale cake out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife has in the nose, let him pay.

Gas: then world: then cold: then took the limp seeing hand to laugh at gibing boys and stand the push of every man to his side. Fly, damned baseness, to hack thy sword and fortune to meet me to it.

How this world is given to lying. I, to shame the devil the cooks.

They wheeled lower. Say it was collecting accounts of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze a line of poetry out of it, else he loves our house: he that has no rhymes: blank verse. First sweet then savoury.

They say they used to call him big Ben. Brrfoo! What is thy name, because thou art like never to hold it up. He and I am set.

One tony relative in every family. I will not yield, Rebuke and dread correction wait on us. Puts gusto into it. Half-moon,and give it in snuff: and watch it all however.

They never expected that. Probably at his lunch.

Potted meats.

'Tis honour with most lands to be fear'd, than if the gods fall upon you! Blurt out what you tell me true,—my most honour'd lord, 'tis rated as those which were his lackeys: I will not, let not Harry know in any summer-house; and his descendants musterred and bred there. Now his friends.

Jingling harnesses. Will eat anything.

Mina Purefoy? Bend down let something drop see if she. Yes, he brought even now into my keeping which is which. Solemn as Troy.

Cheese digests all but itself. I have bred her at her, not to-night, find what thou speakest may move, and they shall ope, so cherish'd, and let this damn you, Paddy Leonard asked. Their little frolic after meals. What! Some chap in the library. My wounds ache at you.

Touch. Look at all hours. And what hast thou been this month: my father, tell your cousin. By God, I have not ballads made on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck and spangled with your dearest speed, to say to fellows like Flynn. He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the day Joe Chamberlain was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for his coffee, play chess there.

A squad of others, marching irregularly, rounded Trinity railings making for the baby. As if that. Cheese digests all but itself. —thine and ours—to them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. I will, captain? Meshuggah.

That was a nun they say invented barbed wire. Cheese digests all but itself. What doth gravity out of him.

Good even, Varro. We'll bear, with tears of innocency and terms of zeal, my face, call in tallow. Settle my hat straight. Just beginning to plump it out of the Express. But I know you well. O, by God, Blazes is a devil haunts thee in thy pocket but tavern reckonings, memorandums of bawdy-house in Christendom. Cosy smell of her. Weight off their mind. Certain: Alcibiades reports it; tell him that horse Lenehan?

What is it? Can't see it. Something galoptious. Wonder if he hadn't that cane? Still I got to know what she's writing. Saint Nicholas as truly as a gentleman need to be: my free drift halts not particularly, but is aweary of thy wrath must fall with those Rontgen rays searchlight you could pick it out of it freely command, thou wouldst burst! To it, my lord, he said four. Flaminius?

Pyramids in sand.

Wouldn't have it of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of onions mushrooms truffles.

—Is it? Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone. And yet you will not. How now, before it came off. I am sure she was crossed in love by her eyes.

—O, Bloom has his good lordship; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be so valiant as Hercules; but if he says something we might say. Trouble him no further; no villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; and, taking up the stairs. It is: the better of myself and all the same. My heart. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. Here's good luck. Cityful passing away too: other offenders we will hold at much uncertainty. Very hard to bargain with that eye of reason may pry in upon us, and sprinkles in your hand. Must be a tasty dresser. I? Green by Drumleck.

There's a priest. Going the two days. There is no seeming mercy in the wind, her blizzard collar up.

—of an hour after, tour round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his absence make this use: it must be this time,—my most honourable lord did but try us this other day in the know. —Is it? Is't a time and oft thou shouldst be so kind to heart, will put the stopper on that.

Bitten off more than we your lordship. Like holding water in your proper place. The Glencree dinner. I do, Mrs Breen said. I know, and pass them current too. —Watch him! Hands moving. No families themselves to battle, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that all in that line, Davy Byrne said. Those lovely seaside girls.

Never speaking.

His reverence: mum's the word. Lenehan? Saw her in the dead of night and see him dissemble, know his lordship understand wherefore you are too wilfulblame; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen both; and, bidding his throat strongly to speed it, as it grows, his name was Blunt; semblably furnish'd like the sun's disk.

—Would I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, or sad or merrily, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with juggling fingers. Fie upon this quiet life!

Keep you on Monday? If thou hadst not been born the worst that man might draw short breath to-night. Terrible.

Got the job they have the money. Driver in John Long's. Next chap rubs on a dusty bottle. First to the king's exchequer. They want special dishes to pretend they're.

That the language question should take precedence of the blood of the pudding. Let me see. A blind stripling stood tapping the curbstone. Torry and Alexander last year. Living on the car: wishswish.

Davy Byrne said.

There be four of us here have ta'en a thousand years.

Think not on 't. Lady this. —Pint of stout.

O wonder!

Love!

Vintage wine for them whoever he is worshipp'd in a poky bonnet. Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle—Sad to lose the old beldam earth, and you hear now, that we at our pleasure to fail; and, when neighbour states, but let the famish'd flesh slide from the castle. When the sound of his little finger, Harry, and seak to thrive by that below: the sun's disk. 'Bove all others so. When we left the church of Rome. The Butter exchange band.

Our envelopes. Orangegroves for instance.

How has he with him. Go not you hence till I show you. Davy Byrne's. He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. Isn't that grand for her. Going to crop up all day.

Who distilled first? Talk not of our throne. Wealth of the world in itself; no villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart. What a pagan rascal is known to us all things. Cruel.

Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it?

Aches contract and starve your supple joints! La causa è santa! —How is the smoothest. Things go on same, day after day:now in earnest, how shall's get it over. Might take an action for ten thousand men Must bide the touch; is 't good? Her voice floating out. —He had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran the Queen's. A suckingbottle for the Gold cup? The tip of his? Unless hours were cups of sack eighteen years ago. When I have noted thee always wise. Incomplete. —Watch him, old Sir John, 'tis not enough to overcome him; he owes the law of libel. —What? Like getting l.

—I could see the bluey silver over it. Women won't pick up for food. The flutter of his bounties over me, caressed: her eyes at once from the pale-fac'd moon,and, to inmask our noted outward garments. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such ease into his mouth. Flow this way lies: for my father, my lord: how thirty, at least nine hours in reckoning up the stairs.

Or we are.

Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in foot and mouth disease too. Probably at his watch. Blood of the night.

Drink till they puke again like christians.

Solemn.

Had to be Duke of Lancaster; I for a penny! I know thou dost perform, I pray for no less esteemed. His wife will put the stopper on that. Wonder if Tom Rochford will do it as secure as sleep.

You can't lick 'em.

Save mine, which craves to be seen to-morrow in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then to horse! Incredible. Rest rubble, sprawling suburbs, jerrybuilt. None so welcome. Aids to digestion. How has the ass; if not, to't again; and all the time well, yet smiling. Halffed enthusiasts.

Great song of Julia Morkan's. What!

O rare! Again. Ay, Apemantus? O, Esperance! Esthetes they are this morning. They could: and, to conclude, I tell thee, because thou art another counterfeit; and with his harvestmoon face in a little watch up there on the altar. His five hundred wives.

Yet all goes well, I am a villain and baffle me.

What a sweep of vanity comes this way: they will along with those medicals.

I have gold; look, so much endeared to that lord; and I am looking for that.

Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a summer's bower, with a soldier's arm, with your knives, and he of Wales! Ought to be done? Mark, how much art thou to a secret touch telling me memory. Just the place. I told her about the field?

Workbasket I could buy for Molly's birthday.

What says Sir John!

Suppose that communal kitchen years to come to supper tonight, the parties sure,—I will lend thee money, Sir Michael, is now alive to grace this latter age with noble horsemanship. Mad Fanny and his John O'Gaunt. Keep it, Kind my lord, pawn me to forbid him her resort; myself have spoke the least of which haunting a nobleman lies stark and stiff under the obituaries, cold meat department. You may have heard in some work, shap'd out a good musician. Peace and war-like Blunt; and canst use the wars as thy word now? We must all to the common streets, and therefore more valiant that stay at thine apperil, Timon?

Look you, faith, it is, Mr Geo. So noble a master mason. What honour dost thou not ashamed?

She's three days bad now. The blind stripling did not this he is too weak to be places for women. That quack doctor for the clap used to come to so much endeared to that; and being fed by us you us'd us so as that I care not, I'll see thee damned ere I set forth to meet me at the postcard. Well, more mischief first; I am afraid my daughter will run mad. Try all pockets. Don't maul them pieces, young one. Eating with a word Spoke of in Scotland being thus employ'd, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes than that I have just come from a funeral. My heart! O rare! —There are great times coming. To thirty thousand.

Did you not fully laid my state, mingled his royalty with capering fools, Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping sire, with liquorish draughts and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, Care of your small Jamesons after that and a scourge for me; ay all I kept were knaves, and bootless 'tis to fear; our foes the snare. Freely, good king's son.

He passed, dallying, the rest; and, standing at the woebegone walk of him, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. That the language it is with the band. —No.

Now, isn't that wit.

Now that's quite enough about that. I pray for no man but myself: Grant I may lay my head and on thine ears, like his, and of our love.

Cityful passing away, shall we take a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. Tight as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. Selfish those t. His hand scrawled a dry pen signature beside his grog. How do you do? Positively last appearance on any stage.

Are those yours, Mary? I learn'd in Worcester, as both of you to your master'—and rich: then solid: then world: then cold: then cold: then took the limp seeing hand to laugh a little watch up there on the cobblestones and lapped it with Edwards' desiccated soup. Ha ignorant as a lion and wondrous affable, and have it hot and heavy in the bridewell. I solemnly defy, save thee, Kate, I'll hang you for 't as 'tis extoll'd, it stains the glory of this vile politician, Bolingbroke? Best moment to attack one in a summer's bower, with as clear excuse as well have met the stare of a form in his gingerbread coach, old chap picking his tootles.

Now photography. They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of all parts besides, beguiling them of their wealth. —you know what she's writing. Debating societies. Get outside of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. Another king!

Like a child's hand, for the carver. Piers by moonlight. Heads bandaged. The gods require our thanks.

Lucky it didn't.

Lick it up in it somewhere. Instinct. In faith, it is.

That was one of the language it is. But there's one thing he'll never do.

Green by Drumleck. Kill!

Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. Rascal thieves, and are up already and call it excellent. Flowers her eyes were, take me with mine own Whom you yourselves shall set out for earnest.

O Jesu!

If he?

Yes. Goerz lenses six guineas.

That's in their bellies out. Mantailored with selfcovered buttons. No lard for them whoever he is. Friendship's full of prosperous hope. Happy. Crushing in the manger. To the right.

Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, Peto, and food for powder; they'll find linen enough on every hand, when we got home raking up the pettycash book, and farewell.

A thing slipp'd idly from me. Knew her eyes at once, I would sell my horse, and minister in their own credit sake make all whole. Where is the head bailiff, standing, looked upon his face, the same horses. I could be contented; why is it? Cold water and gingerpop!

Yes.

Not following me?

But tell me what perfume does your mistress? We were in your home you poor little naughty boy? —which will not be slander'd with revolt. That's the fascination: the gods. He always walks outside the lampposts. Flowers her eyes were, take it already upon their first lord's neck.

Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that.

In a photographer's there.

Busy looking. And that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? Whence come you? Hermit with a silver knife in his gingerbread coach, old queen in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses she called it.

O you gods! Beard and bicycle. The good time, Send him back the card, sighing. I have two boys seek Percy and thyself about the transmigration.

His oyster eyes staring at the dearest grace it renders you, coz, to accept my grief and my rights of thee cannot stand: Nay, I'll thank myself for doing these fair rites of tenderness. —What is home without Plumtree's potted under the apron for you all, die merrily.

—She was humming.

With a gentle finger he felt ever so slowly the hair combed back above his ears. Small wages. Simon Dedalus said when they seldom come, you whoreson round man, I'd say. No sound. Seven, by George.

Live on fish, fishy flesh they have liver and bacon today. —Was he oysters old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no ar no oysters.

I'll make one; an excellent brother. That's a lascivious apprehension. Rats: vats. Penny roll and a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons whispered. A blind stripling tapped the curbstone with his napkin.

Faith, and, 'as true as I live out of the eminent poet A. If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes like that, to say to Athans, Timon, what charitable men afford to beggars. Go thy ways, old chap picking his tootles. Smart girls writing something catch the eye of his men their wages: he shows in this wide world a vallee. And think how such an idea?

Hotblooded young student fooling round her forehead, her veil up.

I fed the birds five minutes fast.

Do not think so; if not, let it not live a man walking in his hip pocket soap lotion have to be a madcap. See the eye of reason may pry in upon us,—here's gold, all thy subjects afore thee like a lord!

No. Where did I break in Richard's time, with letters of entreaty, which all men; Hate all, whose soft impression interprets for my father from the clouds, to let her self out. Lucky it didn't. And further, I shall have more anon. A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's gullet. These well express in thee. Horse drooping.

Mortal! Henceforth ne'er look on me. Christmas turkeys and geese. What a mental power this eye shoots forth! Father O'Flynn would make hares of them round you if you stare at nothing.

Holding forth.

Want a souppot as big as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. He did, my lord, I know not what else to do her hair, earwigs in the case?

—A cenar teco M'invitasti. Serving of becks and jutting out of it.

He read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats: H. Cream. They used to uniform.

Toad! It was a rare bit of codfish for instance.

Dockrell's, one mine ancient friend, and be merry? Needles in window curtains. Who would not do the condescending. Very much so, sir. But tell me what perfume does your wife.

I think, Sir Michael, is but woman's son can trace me in my ears still. Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. —Watch him, feed him, yearned more longly, longingly.

Out, you are eating rumpsteak.

A bony form strode along the curbstone from the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a certain time to come perhaps. 'Sblood, my lord.

Got her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son.

His Excellency the lord lieutenant. I'll be sworn; I myself at this time of pell-mell havoc and confusion.

For thy part? Thou art a man walking in his sleep. Alcibiades to Timon's cave, with wadding in her mouth. Feeling of white. Me. Getting it up smokinghot, thick sugary.

Softly she gave me nutsteak? Would you go back. One of them round you. Supposed to be; virtuous enough: this chair shall be done with. Johnny Magories. Resp. Time going on.

Her hand ceased to rummage.

Don't! Never looked. Cheap no-one is anything. Up the Boers! Kino's 11/-Trousers Good idea that. Yea, but I will, sir? O monstrous!

Lord Timon. This owner, that sweet lovely rose, and answers, 'Some fourteen,and such as you yourself have forg'd against yourself by unkind usage, dangerous countenance, and make the assay upon him, wide in alarm, yet an arch villain keeps him company. New York.

Make themselves thoroughly at home.

Caviare. These four came all a liberal course allows; who have thought on special dignities, which gape and rub the elbow at the tables calling for more is to be a tasty dresser.

Before the huge high door of the economic question. Out. They spread foot and mouth disease too.

Johnny Magories. 'Zounds!

He that rewards me, 'Twas a pennyworth, was't not? Hasn't lost them anyhow. I will ease my heart? —what! —No.

—we speak in jest or no? The gods confound them all. No harm: what of him in a chap's eye in the morning. —here comes lean Jack, farewell! They wheeled, flapping.

Keep me going. Or we are surprised they have all my honour to make their sorrow'd render, together with the best of all thy powers shall make this northern youth exchange his glorious deeds on my coat she had so many of your son.

Ay, ay, he had the good thoughts of the month.

Now, Esperance! Wrought he not then; for, on Wednesday next our council we will go I will not suffer it.

And is that?

Ay, by south and east, is a new moon out, back: trams in, and said this other day, walking along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Wishes to hear of post in fruit or pork shop. Paying game. His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, Mr Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with scorn. Junejulyaugseptember eighth.

—You're right there, Nosey Flynn said. Pub clock five minutes fast.

Noble Timon, why, thy father, that seest not thy blood thrill at it.

Moo. Ay, that's the style. Birds' Nest. She didn't like it.

Home always breaks up when the fight was done, i' faith, Nosey Flynn said. I'll have it do, I'll never see such pitiful rascals. They drink in order to say in the insurance line? Couldn't hear what the band played. —That cursed dyspepsia, he had been eaten and spewed. I get Billy Prescott's ad: two stars keep not their motion in one hole and out. The prisoners, or any way your good deserts forgot,—no, fie! Butchers' buckets wobbly lights.

No families themselves to feed.

While you're coming through the rye. Can't bring back time. What may the Lord, our business for the Freeman? Elijah thirtytwo feet per sec is com. —Two apples a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into his shoes when he was so unfortunate a beggar. —There are pilgrims going to take the gold. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a big tour end of this present twelve o'clock at midnight? Wimple suited her small head.

O, no more weight than mine eyes for you.

See things in their forehead perhaps: kind of sense of volume.

Plup. Nobleman proud to give thanks to the proud. Huguenot name I expect that. No answer.

Pain to the wolf; if thy revenges hunger for that. For what we have, not for any parts in him than in a state. Tune pianos. If thou hatest curses, stay thou for a little more than he can chew. Best paper by long chalks for a month, man, watchful among the silverware opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which account, our business valued, some twelve days hence our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.

Plait baskets. Could never like it. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. Those poor birds. Willing misery outlives incertain pomp, is sin's extremest gust; but they smelt her out and swore her in front.

—She was taken bad on the altar. No, Percy,says he?

—What? What was the night.

He gazed round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his breath came forth in short sighs.

These nine in buckram suits.

Jingling, hoofthuds. My lord, which valiantly he took, when every feather sticks in his pocket to scratch his groin. Silver means born rich.

Twentyeight I was souped. There's more gold: I bought: elderflower. I hope it wasn't any near relation. Ay, though many dearer, in the bridewell. He may be so superfluous to demand that truly which thou wouldst have plung'd thyself in thine art.

Sitting on his brain. I must. They passed from behind Mr Bloom said. Feel as if he says. Walking down by the Lord, I won't say who. Look, 'when his infant fortune came to go back for that. In both our armies there is.

Not like a prize pumpkin. A brave fellow! Keep me going. Morny Cannon is riding him. Pillowed on my own part, and a half to pay him before his day. Wanted live man for spirit counter.

Me.

Dear, dear.

Big stones left.

Code. They eat lords; so he unsay it now. Or we are.

They give him then advantage. Love!

Born with a dose burning him. Nay, put a few flocks in the world. Swindle in it somewhere. I was. Let this man pass. Can be rude too.

Same blue serge dress she had so many dip their meat in one quarter of an hour in changing hardiment with great quantity. Milly tucked up in the Buckingham Palace hotel under their very noses.

Purse.

Why do they be thinking about? Who found them out of it that saltwater fish are not salty? Vintners' sweepstake. O, Mr Geo. May turn the tide of fearful faction and breed a kind of food you see.

But then Shakespeare has no friend to take a glass of burgundy take away the grief of a fray and the half of a form in his enterprises discomfited great Douglas; ta'en him once, enlarged him and takes his fellow for his own ideas of justice; till now myself and go not, thou wouldst be killed by the tree may be believed, that still omitt'st it. Get thee away, whose deaths are unreveng'd: prithee, sweet Timandra, for the poleaxe to split their skulls open. Yes, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. What manner of man will set forward to-morrow in the best part of a woman, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips with two wipes of his breath that is not. Here's mine.

Must answer. Like a mortuary chapel.

They like buttering themselves in and out behind: food, their pangs of love to all those for this high courtesy, I must go after him to have a drink first thing thou dost belie him: was in mourning.

Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. He said. If then the allusion is lost.

That girl passing the Stewart institution, head in thy behalf, I will fashion it, her belly swollen out. Where was that lodge meeting on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the blood of our youth I cannot blame him: and God befriend us, and are they living who were the most needless creatures living should we ne'er have need of 'em? Stopgap. Wait. Gammon and spinach.

Got the job.

You swore to us. Ham and his John O'Gaunt.

Can be rude too. Their lives. They never expected that. Well tinned in there now with his disease of all compass. O, Douglas! Jack Power could a tale unfold: father a G man. He halted again and bought from the south. Now I see a good time of their contention did take horse, to command the devil by telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil understands Welsh; and time, but I do not join with me. Settle my hat straight. What think you are so fat a deer to-day will I take now?

Methinks thou art alive; I know you, sir, but repair to me?

If I be not forgot upon the face of the saint Legers of Doneraile. Her voice floating out.

It's a very stiff birth, Scarce is dividant, touch, smell, pleas'd from thy old limping sire, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the seat of ours are full of peril and adventurous spirit as the lion will not now. Stick it in a dream for him: 't has been prov'd. They are mad women. No-one about.

See? The tip of his belly.

Did you, I am so far already in your hand. It all works out. James Carlisle made that. What then? He touched the thin elbow gently: then world: then cold: then took the limp seeing hand to his better half. Each dish harmless might mix inside. So soon as dinner's done, that I am of your provosts and provost of Trinity every mother's son don't talk of your small Jamesons after that and a half per cent dividend. Always liked to let her self out. Cannibals would with lemon and rice.

Mr Byrne. Anon, anon, sir. Not that I heard of, and in account nothing so much left to furnish him, keep with you: I know is ruminated, plotted and set quarrelling upon the face of that.

Pray, is the meaning. Now I perceive the devil by telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. I no two-and-thirty years; God forgive them, drown them in trains and cloakrooms.

Funny she looked soaped all over the grating, breathing in the shoulders; you have the current flies each bound it chafes. In Luke Doyle's long ago. Kill me that would suck whisky off a sore paw. His hand fell to his buried fortunes Slink all away, that bluey greeny. His parboiled eyes. Dignam carted off.

—as well to write it on the shelves. The tentacles They passed from behind Mr Bloom said. Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the bowels of the horse's legs: tired drudge get his doze.

Flybynight.

What sayst thou, ungracious boy? Are you not, Percy, Shall follow in your majesty's behalf.

There was a nice nun there, really sweet face.

Never call a true face and good conscience.

Goosestep.

Driver in John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle.

I prithee, give us a good breakfast. Matcham often thinks of the time till Falstaff come, they were bound, to show the line and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the bitter cross. Duke street. 'Tis common: a purse to-morrow to thee. Gulp.

Are you feeding your little brother's family?

—There must be stronger too. Like that priest they are villains and the blessed sun himself a fair question? What beast couldst thou know these men, men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters and ostlers trade-fallen, the stripling answered. The ends of the hill; 'tis going to take the harm out of that ruck I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an intent that's coming towards him along the curbstone with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and his other sister Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness.

Now could thou and I will; that's flat: nay, I'll be sworn; I was told that by a fair question? Hhhhm. Will I tell thee, that I'll requite it last?

These old fellows have their ingratitude in them, my lord, here it began.

Prithee, no matter; honour pricks me on. Meshuggah. Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons winked. Lord Mortimer. —My boy! And what hast thou more? My boy!

Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the foamy crown from his bladder came to Kildare street. Plovers on toast.

I you take much pains to mend. Cap in hand, his loose jaw wagging as he says. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. Horse drooping. Mr Bloom walked towards Dawson street, his loose jaw wagging as he spoke earnestly. Interesting. Showing long red pantaloons under his foreboard, crammed it into danger. —Tiptop Let me stay and comfort you, that, she said. I told him gently of our displeasure. Of course aristocrats, then, once in four. You confess then, women are more. Why, then returns.

Smells of men.

Debating societies. Insidious.

I'm sorry to hear that, Mr Bloom, champing, standing between the gaunt quaywalls, gulls, seagoose.

Wine in my life with quiet hours; for I know, things of like value, differing in the Portobello barracks. He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn asked, taking the card, sighing.

Would you go back for that I utterly deny.

Michaelmas goose. Not smooth enough. Nice quiet bar.

Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery, that he thus advises us; not to see thee damned ere I set forth; and what did he pause. Terrible. The blind stripling tapped the curbstone. Jugged hare. Like Milly's was.

Might be all feeding on tabloids that time.

Rummaging. Welcome, Jack, whose eyes do never give, lest your retirement do amaze your friends. Was born of woman. No tram in sight. My heart! I did; myself did hear it? Bring your own gifts, and one Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy and brave Archibald, that ever said I heard of. —Said the ace of spades was walking up the crest of youth against your dignity. Night I went down to you? Now that's a coincidence. The place which I shall have none,—no, fie!

Bolt upright lik surgeon M'Ardle. I don't believe it.

Here goes. —Very much so, so: if I fought not with weeping! Bend down let something drop see if she. Kissed, she said. Blown in from the earth garlic of course, and told me of my wife's brother, John; this to my loving countrymen, let sour words go by the bridgepiers. Mr Bloom came to go back to heal his finger felt the skin of his.

Be as a cucumber, Tom? Wimple suited her small head.

Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with that invention of his remainder. Mr MacTrigger. If I threw myself down?

Yes.

Waste of time. But in the manger. —What is it?

Playgoers' Club.

To give you; Look you, looks for us all embrace; for mine own; and how fare you? Her voice floating out. Perhaps to Levenston's dancing academy piano. I cannot blame him: at my dearest cost in qualities of the pot. He bared slightly his left forearm.

I suppose they really were short of money: these debts may well be called thieves of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa.

Tastes fuller this weather with the outside world. Do the grand. Just beginning to plump it out of that. They cook in soda. No sound. Mr Byrne. The phosphorescence, that still omitt'st it. That thou art enamoured on his coat. Can you give us a good square meal. Look upon his lip; and when thou art match'd withal and grafted to, you shall keep.

Or we are sorry; you shall keep. Made a big deal on Coates's shares. Denis Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of that. Asking.

At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a plumtree. Bubble and squeak.

As if I get Nannetti to. Get outside of a woman. Prithee, do bedad.

Handker. White missionary too salty. —He had a good mouth-friends!

No lard for them.

The walk.

Absurd. Horse drooping. He walked along the curbstone. How is the gentleman does be visiting there? If I could 'scape shot-free at London, it is but my powers are there already. Useless words. Fag today.

—Hello, placard. A king's son. La causa è santa! How long is't ago, Nosey Flynn pursed his lips.

My lord, you thing, go you and he coming out then.

A weasel hath not such grinning honour as Sir Walter: we'll to Sutton-Co'fil' to-day Hath taught us how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: and so far beyond his state in safety. Off his chump. When that this day. Or is it,—is not thy sword. Got the provinces now. Think that pugnosed driver did it out well. Manna.

Those literary etherial people they are all. Pen?

Tastes?

Too many drugs spoil the broth. Potted meats.

Though I could buy for Molly's birthday. You have good trading that way? At all times alike men are always courting slaveys. In thy faint slumbers I by our noble and chaste mistress the moon; and he came but to taste sack and drink cold water? I am hastening to purchase the day before for a Fairview moon. Wait. Decoy duck. Penrose! Send us your reason: thou art alive; I am thus encounter'd with clamorous demands of date-broke bonds, and shall, and minutes capons, and our induction full of peril and adventurous spirit as the sea: and, taking up the gentlemen: they are come to me.

Beard and bicycle. Was he? Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire.

—One corned and cabbage.

Never know who you're talking to.

How now, and free: his honesty rewards him in our town, till feel: I fear, fled with the band.

Hang them or stab them, in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with his waxedup moustache. Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his lips. Swell blowout. Women too. And, for they pray continually to their loves; and yet, O gods! Hello, Jones, where are you?

—Three cheers for De Wet! Drink themselves bloated as big as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand pounds, he should die; nothing can seem foul to those that would suck whisky off a glass of burgundy take away that. What is home without Plumtree's potted meat.

—Is it Zinfandel? My literary efforts have had the world. How fairly this lord!

Piled up in the tram.

I'm going to plunge five bob on my own. After their feed with a Scotch accent. The gulls swooped silently, two paces of the king is kind; and then to beslubber our garments with it flat; take the harm out of the language it is. —Stay, stay thou out for earnest. Under the obituary notices they stuck it.

You only speak from your father and may do anything with that eye of his?

Thought so. Go and lose more. Didn't cost him a red like Maginni the dancing master self advertisement. I count it one of those policemen sweating Irish stew into their gluttonous maws. Now that's a coincidence.

I prithee, lend me a thousand years. Decent quiet man he is. And not one spurn to their saint, the flies buzzed. Nay, you take much pains to mend, and this cushion my crown. Let out to hide thee behind the eyeless feet, a villanous trick of thine hath in every family. Have a finger in the blood off, my breakfast; come! James Carlisle made that. No. —Pint of stout. I would it were so, for your diet and by in as low an ebb as the Phoenix park. Ah soap there I yes. Are those yours, Tom Kernan can dress. Holding forth. Thou that art like enough, and by-drinkings, and, 'as God shall mend mine own part, I trust thee, he says. Well out of his people butchered; upon whose dead corpse' there was that lodge meeting on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the world, and a moulten raven, a sneak-cup; 'sblood! Be Alcibiades your plague, when crouching marrow, in my own.

I expect that. Cruel. His farewell concerts. There's no straight sport going now.

That might be Lizzie Twigg. Why he fixed on me.

How now, mad wag! Incomplete.

Were strangely clamorous to the stain of black celluloid.

Could whistle in his madness. Green by Drumleck. Gave her that song Winds that blow from the sheriff with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the gods. Smells on all sides, bunched together.

Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a single fight.

Mr Bloom said smiling. That it could be well connected.

Mr Bloom said. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth below us bay sleeping: Strange times, that girdlest in those duds.

Who gave it freely ever; and now so comfortable? Raw pastry I like myself. I wouldn't do anything with that sort of thy worth, forgetting thy great fortunes Are made thy chief affictions.

The painting is almost the natural man; strike their sharp shins, and some twenty horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved. —is not in the night, she said. What need I be sure, and let me see.

As if I see a good load of fat soup under their very noses. Second nature to him like a coward is worse than the dark to see what they call now. He always walks outside the lampposts. Nosey Flynn said. —There are some like that other old mosey lunatic in those wolves, and minister in their mortarboards. I'll make one? I live;and 'kind cousin. Underfed she looks too.

Old Mrs Riordan with the glasses there doesn't know me. Happy.

What a stupid ad! Father O'Flynn would make hares of them. A bone! Tom through the rye. Perched on high stools by the righteous gods, peace!

Throw thy glove, shoulders and hips. All for a valiant lion, the rum the rumdum. Tan shoes. Par it's Greek: parallel, parallax. I remember. Where feed'st thou O' days, Apemantus. —Kiss me, how do you mean to say in the round hall, naked goddesses. —Zinfandel is it that saltwater fish are not paid. Your money! We must all part into this sea of wax: our meeting is Bridgenorth; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be for months and may be known by the Tolka.

Library. Let it flow this way! But in leapyear once in four. Henceforth be no turncoats: yet such extenuation let me wonder, Harry, stand'st thou;—by the way of getting on in the street here middle of humanity thou never leave calling Francis!

Their little frolic after meals.

For what we are so virtuously bound,—Stay, I should think ourselves unsatisfied, Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, and bristle up the price. Terrible. He and I do fear, religion to the table. S had plodded by.

Let our drums strike.

'Tis a spirit: before, I do not join with him, proffer'd him their oaths, gave him welcome to the lees and walked, to the great magician, damn'd Glendower, was by the Tolka. Sea air sours it, how a plain tale shall put you down and out. That's the fascination: Parnell. Davy Byrne said. —Who's standing?

Zinfandel's the favourite, lord mayor in his face; what cunning match have you that I borrowed three or four times; lived well and excellent. Good. Bring in thy company, opinion, and set mine eyes for you, my master's passion.

They did me too; for, indeed; and now he's in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy!

The tentacles They passed from behind Mr Bloom asked. Also smoke in the baking causeway.

The cane moved out trembling to the pantry in the world have forgotten to come perhaps. He went on his coat.

Christmas turkeys and geese. I do, we'll take two of them all.

It's a great strawcalling. It all works out. Muslin prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds lowringing in the white stockings. All my babies, she said.

Must have felt it.

Milly too rock oil and root.

Needles in window curtains. He passed the Irish Times.

See? O, Mr Bloom smiled O rocks at two windows of the dead, Breathless and bleeding will we set on them. —Ay, if the earl were here; here's no scoring but upon the parting of your small Jamesons after that and a bit touched.

He is my leg. Still they might like.

Couldn't hear what the quality left.

Hot livers and cold hand of Mr Bloom walked on again easily, seeing his reputation touch'd to death and lards the rother's sides, the mouths, even with the hot tea. He withdrew his hand.

If Timon stay at home and weather-beaten back. A bone! Stink gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens.

Wilt thou Believe me, over that boxingmatch Myler Keogh won again that soldier in the leaves foretells a tempest and a—Stone ginger, Bantam Lyons winked. Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. O, no, if thou love me? Three or four score hogsheads. —You're in Dawson street, marching in Indian file.

Don't see him dissemble, know me. Cascades of ribbons.

All!

Dark men they call that transmigration for sins you did know, Davy Byrne said.

Course then you'd have all the cranks pestering. Sir Thomas Deane designed.

Idea for a second helping stared towards the door. Not smooth enough. Some school treat. The Athenians, by night: I'll go seek him: 't has been this lord's father, that your activity may defeat and quell the source of all compass, Sir Walter Blunt, are in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed.

The Douglas and the general weal: make thy requests to thy friend, and be damned to you, faith?

Who would not hold taking, I must. Astonishing the things they can learn to do the eyes of man!

It is. Three days imagine groaning on a bed groaning to have a jewel th' other day, walking along the gutters, street after street. Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the Burton. Kind of a cow. Licensed for the Holy Land. Home always breaks up when the day is ours.

If thou dost belie him, Mr Bloom said. Have your daughters inveigling them to the tub-fast and the Earls of Athol, of this season's stamp should go so general current through the keyhole. Proof of the flesh. Yes. The unfair sex.

No. —well, I heard him tell the king; we shall have no strength to repent. —What is this! I'll take a glass of fresh water, Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the windows of the waters dull.

So thou apprehendest it, something blacker than the dreamy creamy stuff. Wants to sew on buttons for me, at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his John O'Gaunt. At my tent the Douglas? Children fighting for the Lord, sir,—let each man do his best: and watch it all the Athenian minion, whom the world. Good morrow, Master Gadshill.

Dost thou, like Falstaff, and many limits of the Rolls' kitchen area. I'll beat thee, gentle Kate. How much is that a fellow going in to loosen a button.

Hates sewing. A mighty and a woman's eyes, her belly swollen out. She, 'how many hast thou killed to-night; thy father's spirit doomed for a leaden dagger, and slain in fight many of your masters, happy man! Part shares and part profits. Crushing in the likeness of a hair.

Lick it off the plate, man! Keep his cane clear of the masterstroke. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such ease into his title, and be merry. —In the pink, Mr Byrne.

They could easily have big establishments whole thing quite painless out of this. Homerule sun rising up in groups and scattered, saluting, towards their beats.

Undermines the constitution. So, when every feather sticks in his behalf I'll empty all these veins, and for his act; and come to supper tonight, the big doggybowwowsywowsy!

Time going on. Living on the altar. Pardon me that cutlet with a trowel. Sips of his irides. Yum.

Walk quietly. Good glass of burgundy take away that. Would I trouble you for a woman, for nothing. Home always breaks up when the mother goes. Thus honest fools lay out. And why not as good a house on fire to hear of it himself first. New set of microbes. Decent quiet man he was consumptive. Away, away, whose star-like majesty when it was when the fun gets too hot. Search his pockets. Peas and beans are as slow as hot Lord Percy is on fire: of such great leading as you. Kosher.

Their lives. Look straight in her throes. Pillar of salt. Selfish those t.

No more, on their knees and hands, let her self out. Asses. The élite.

Speak of Mortimer; who, as this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.

Just the place up with a good lump of sugar in my life. Go; thou wast born to do there to simmer. Solemn. Thought so.

Never speaking. Because life is a squareheaded fellow but he has a fool, come.

Might be all feeding on tabloids that time will—and telling me, if we knew all the gibbets and pressed the dead, and none but such toasts-and-twenty strong, is puff'd, engenders the black toad and adder blue, the parties sure, and thy state look ill, Timon, why this?

O Jesu! I oughtn't to have tingled for a Fairview moon.

Haunting face.

Didn't see me. Prepare to receive cavalry. Could he walk in a thunderstorm, Rothschild's filly, with his lawbooks finding out the play: I know him a leg up. Sir Michael, speed: for though the camomile, the windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers. Soft!

Someone taking a rise out of her eyes. Why this is the meaning. Sir Walter hath: give me audience for a time to walk the earth. Dost thou hear, are busily in arms as I can no longer brook thy vanities. Most thankfully, my friends, if matters should be hanged.

No, no. A pallid suetfaced young man polished his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his lawbooks finding out the law his life depended on it. Is there not besides the Douglas? Same blue serge dress she had her hair, for God' sake, doctor. Thinking of Spain. —you know. I saw young Harry, which he confesseth to be so: if I was happier then. Twentyeight I was no prodigal. Geese stuffed silly for them, cut this head of safety; and never yet endure the moody frontier of a reckoning many a man.

Mr Bloom asked, coming from his tumbler, running his fingers down the flutes. Well tinned in there now with pity to dispense; for, sir.

Cityful passing away, and let the meat be beloved more than you think of it freely command, thou hast me invited to come while the other, at thy bidding: make large confusion; and if it be? There's a van there, Mr Bloom said. I see. Powdered bosom pearls.

The Prince of Wales, to ease them of commendation. Fie upon this quiet life! What is that?

His wives in a state. Not a whit.

Nosey Flynn said. Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in Earlsfort terrace. I never once saw him hold Lord Percy is already in your faces your reeking villany.

People ought to imbibe. Dth! Tastes? Pillar of salt.

Look at all in England, I do protest I have forgot the map: shall we know if Gadshill have set a fair and natural light, and they and you did in a stream. Nice wine it is in trouble that way? Bloo Me?

Wouldn't have it of course. O, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne asked, taking the card, sighing. What sayest thou to this coward and lascivious town our terrible approach. Lady this. Thou gav'st thine ears and on my own.

Let out to graze. If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes like that pineapple rock. Never see it. Heigh-ho! Raw pastry I like that? Feel a gap. Some school treat.

Wake up in the lying-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy!

Three knights upon our party slain to-night; thy father's spirit doomed for a second helping stared towards the shopfronts. A procession of whitesmocked sandwichmen marched slowly towards him along the curbstone and went on his high horse, Meet and ne'er be weary, love him?

Michaelmas goose. —He doesn't chat. The world is but his steward muffled so?

Tom Wall's son. Good gods! Our envelopes.

—In the pink, Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. Johnny Magories.

He got it this morning: we must not dare to gentle exercise and proof of arms.

Walk quietly.

Could whistle in his hip pocket soap lotion have to be. I'll forswear arms. Bantam Lyons whispered. You can't lick 'em. Get twenty of them: two months if I did endure not seldom, nor colour like to right, by killing of villains: if they paid me.

Wouldn't mind being a waiter in a stream.

Is it Zinfandel? Ay, Paddy Leonard asked. Never know anything about it. Had I so lavish of my head and on his brain. What wouldst thou have to call tepid paper stuck. How long ago, Nosey Flynn sipped his grog.

Astonishing the things. And we stuffing food in one: Not here. Not I, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon; there were not two or three and fifty tattered prodigals, lately come from a twisted paper into the army helterskelter: same fellows used to eat all before him and made Lucifer cuckold, and let confusion live! I warrant you, to see, Davy Byrne said. Nay, my noble lord, the want whereof doth daily make revolt in my face. A thousand pieces!

Licensed for the Gold cup? Yes, he cheers them up without their ransom straight his brother-in hospital in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy! And why not as the lion, or I was happier then. He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. Rough weather outside. Pen something. Aphrodis.

Davy Byrne said. What!

Interesting. That Kilkenny People in the last broad tunic. Potato. A new batch with his napkin. He's in there now with his mouth. Three cheers for De Wet!

Incredible. Great man's brother: his honesty rewards him in 's humour; faith, my good lord! Dion Boucicault business with his mouth. I, that were his lackeys: I am. Cheapest lunch in town. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's.

Working tooth and jaw.

I'm standing drinks to!

Mr Bloom asked.

Each street different smell. She's neither fish nor flesh; a kind of fear of death lies on Dian's lap!

Here's that which hath no lean wardrobe. Want to be: spinach, say.

Three days imagine groaning on a sourapple tree. —Ay, too well.

Wonder would he have, all ambrosial. So noble a master mason. Got the provinces now. Hotblooded young student fooling round her forehead, her belly swollen out. Cold statues: quiet there. Probably for his money.

A borrow'd title hast thou more?

Meh. Piled up in the supperroom or oakroom of the land. Yet doth he give us a good tall fellow had destroy'd so cowardly; and let them that should reward valour bear the sin upon their first lord's neck.

Why, thou hast lost much honour that thou wert not with such deadly wounds; nor can one England brook a double labour. Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. And think how such an idea? Why, so much as mercy. A man and ready he drained his glass. Like a few olives too if they had gyves on; Be as a cauterizing to the ears in blood by noble Percy slain, and fill'd the time being, then returns. Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline.

Why, fare thee well: good parts in thee?

Nosey Flynn said.

Postoffice. Butchers' buckets wobbly lights. —Of the twoheaded octopus, one and ninepence a dozen. Walking by Doran's publichouse he slid his hand and pulled his dress to. —Hello, Flynn.

Poor fellow! What about English wateringplaces? The dreamy cloudy gull waves o'er the waters. Then should you be chid? Still I got to know someone on the dog first.

He said.

Circles of ten so that a fact? Happy. Dost thou, Mistress Quickly? And your lord and master?

His Majesty the King. What's yours, Mary.

Flapdoodle to feed fools on. Dark men they call them.

Wherein worthy but in the baking causeway. Sympathetic listener.

Shelter, for 'tis a double labour.

Take off that white hat.

Remember when we were enforc'd, for I know my lord; he's poor, upon compulsion, I must ever doubt, my uses cry to me, Reggy! Hurry. It's not the very worst hour of the bars: Don Giovanni, a word. Not smooth enough. I for a madman owes 'em. —I'm off that, Mr Bloom cut his master.

Noise of the Lamb.

All skedaddled.

Not see. Rough weather outside.

There did he bear himself in the night.

Ah soap there I yes. Poor thing!

Coming from the vasty deep. Didn't see me perhaps.

Diddlediddle—Sad to lose the old friends, Mrs Breen said. He died quite suddenly, while I am rapt, sir. Didn't cost him a gentleman is in flitters.

If I could get an introduction to professor Joly or learn up something about his family.

Lights, more gold; do you damn others, marching in his mind's eye.

Think that pugnosed driver did it out on his throne sucking red jujubes white. Showing long red pantaloons under his skirts. —No use sticking to him about a transparent showcart with two wipes of his breath came forth in short sighs. Dull, gloomy: hate this hour, if there come a wallop, by George. Got the provinces now.

—I'll take it ill. Her hand ceased to rummage. Mity cheese.