Ulysses by James Joyce Chapter 15 Page 245

yours is mine and what’s mine is my own.

(Kitty, disconcerted, coats her teeth with the silver paper. Bloom approaches Zoe.)

BLOOM: (Gently.) Give me back that potato, will you?

ZOE: Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing.

BLOOM: (With feeling.) It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma.

ZOE:

Give a thing and take it back

God’ll ask you where is that

You’ll say you don’t know

God’ll send you down below.

BLOOM: There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it.