About James Joyce
…and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
—History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.
Love loves to love love.
Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes.
A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.
The Friday Letter
One story from the atlas, every Friday.
No algorithms chasing attention. A work, a place, and the connection between them — with the history checked.

