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”Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My Eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.”
Citerat ur James Joyce ”Araby” som ingår i novellsamlingen Dubliners (1914).
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