Divine nature gave the fields, human art built the cities.
By the same author and on kindred topics.
I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city one day suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book.
Out of constables we have made grandees, idiots have shared out the honours, thieves are making rich men for us, dark souls have called themselves patriots.
Every generation, no doubt, believes itself called to remake the world. Mine knows that it will not remake it.
The object of the artist is the creation of the beautiful. What the beautiful is is another question.
Capitalism is unequally distributed wealth, and socialism is equally distributed poverty. But the saying is not quite right, for Bolshevism distributes even poverty unequally.
It would be better for you, young man, not to write. Writing is what brought you to jail. Had you been illiterate, you might today be a decent, honest man and perhaps a respected citizen, but as it is you drag yourself from jail to jail like a gambler.
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