“The first day in the hall of the castle when she had said goodbye she had put up her veil double to her nose to kiss him: and her nose and eyes were red. But he had pretended not to see that she was going to cry. She was a nice mother but she was not so nice when she cried. And his father had given him fiveshilling pieces for pocket money. And his father had told him if he wanted anything to write home to him and, what he did, never to peach on a fellow” (Joyce 7).
“He could not get out the answer for the sum but it did not matter. White roses and red roses: those were beautiful colors to think of. And the cards for first place and second place and third place were beautiful colours too: pink and cream and lavender. Lavender and cream and pink were beautiful colours to think of. Perhaps a wild rose might be like those colours and he remembered the song about the wild rose blossoms on the little green place. But you could not have a green rose. But perhaps somewhere in the world you could” (9).
Joyce, James. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.
tags: family, color, symbolism, rose, Stephen, new places