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milajake: One by one they were all becoming shades
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milajake: 'Tis as human a little story as paper could well carry
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milajake: there was no one else to see only him
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milajake: But my body was like a harp
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milajake: Some distant lamp or lighted window
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milajake: for a minute or two don’t speak, remember!
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milajake: Every age must look for its sanction to its poetry and philosophy
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milajake: Does nobody understand?
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milajake: I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete
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milajake: Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised
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milajake: and yes I said yes I will Yes.