Finnegans Wake (Unabridged)

by James Joyce

490]

Quinnigan’s Quake!

— Of whitecaps any? — Foamflakes flockfuyant from Foxrock to Finglas.

Who kills the cat in Cairo coaxes cocks in Gaul.

Crestofer Carambas! Such is zodisfaction.

The park is gracer than the hole, says she,

Hotchkiss Culthur’s Everready,

casket, grandmother has advanced alcoholic amblyopia, the terror of Goodmen’s Field, and respected and respectable, as respectable as respectable can respectably be, though their orable amission were the herrors I could have expected,

Adieu, soft adieu, for these nice presents, kerryjevin. Still

and Zosimus, the crowder, in his surcoat, sues us with souftwister.

shall receive Dom King at broadstone barrow meet a keys of goodmorrow on to his pompey cushion. Me

Honuphrius,

Michael, who has formerly debauched Anita,

prick this man and tittup this woman,

Irryland. Is there no-one to malahide Liv and her bettyship?

a turnkeyed trot to Seapoint,

just mentioning however that the old man of the sea and the old woman in the sky if they don’t say nothings about it they don’t tell us lie,

partners lovesoftfun at Finnegan’s Wake.

which zoantholitic furniture,

that hugglebeddy fann, now about to get up, the hartiest that Coolock ever!

vin. Here is your shirt, the day one, come back. The stock, your collar. Also your double brogues. A

infams. One time you told you’d been burnt in ice. And one time it was chemicalled after you taking a lifeness.

Or the Wald Unicorns Master, Bugley Captain, from the Naul,

barsalooner, saying they’re the best relicts of Conal O’Daniel and writing Finglas since the Flood.

You’re only a bumpkin. I thought you the great in all things, in guilt and in glory. You’re but a puny. Home!

Nor know. Nor miss me. And it’s old and old it’s sad and old it’s [p.628] sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father,