“…He hardly knew where he was walking. Pride and hope and desire like crushed herbs in his heart sent up vapours of maddening incense before the eyes of his mind. He strode down the hill amid the tumult of suddenrisen vapours of wounded pride and fallen hope and baffled desire… ” (Joyce 72).
“…No life or youth stirred in him as it had stirred in them. He had known neither pleasure of companionship with others nor the vigour of rude male health or filial piety. Nothing stirred within his soul but a cold and cruel and loveless lust… ” (Joyce 80).
Notes- irony and learning.
Joyce, James. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.