Chris' Original Blogbeque

A fresh, vinegar-based examination of life

I often feel this way…

Posted by Chris on March 10, 2008

The noise of children at play annoyed him and their silly voices made him feel… that he was different from others. He did not want to play. He wanted to meet in the real world the unsubstantial image which his soul so constantly beheld. He did not know where to seek it or how: but a premonition which led him on told him that his image would, without any overt act of his, encounter him. They would meet quietly… They would be alone, surrounded by darkness and silence: and in that moment of supreme tenderness he would be transfigured. He would fade into something impalpable under her eyes and then in a moment, he would be transfigured.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

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