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Current Search - dusk in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
1 She had passed through the dusk.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
2 In the silence their dark fire kindled the dusk into a tawny glow.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
3 But the dusk, deepening in the schoolroom, covered over his thoughts.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
4 He turned and saw three boys of his own class coming towards him in the dusk.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 2
5 The firelight flickered on the wall and beyond the window a spectral dusk was gathering upon the river.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 2
6 A dusk like that of the outer world obscured his mind as he heard the mare's hoofs clattering along the tramtrack on the Rock Road and the great can swaying and rattling behind him.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 2
7 The swift December dusk had come tumbling clownishly after its dull day and, as he stared through the dull square of the window of the schoolroom, he felt his belly crave for its food.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
8 He snatched the ashplant roughly from Stephen's hand and sprang down the steps: but Temple, hearing him move in pursuit, fled through the dusk like a wild creature, nimble and fleet-footed.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 5
9 His soul was fattening and congealing into a gross grease, plunging ever deeper in its dull fear into a sombre threatening dusk while the body that was his stood, listless and dishonoured, gazing out of darkened eyes, helpless, perturbed, and human for a bovine god to stare upon.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 3
10 He heard a confused music within him as of memories and names which he was almost conscious of but could not capture even for an instant; then the music seemed to recede, to recede, to recede, and from each receding trail of nebulous music there fell always one longdrawn calling note, piercing like a star the dusk of silence.
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young ManBy James Joyce ContextHighlight In Chapter 4