Ulysses by James Joyce Chapter 6 Page 29

from the mother. If not from the man. Better luck next time.

Poor little thing, Mr Dedalus said. It’s well out of it.

The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Rattle his bones. Over the stones. Only a pauper. Nobody owns.

In the midst of life, Martin Cunningham said.

But the worst of all, Mr Power said, is the man who takes his own life.

Martin Cunningham drew out his watch briskly, coughed and put it back.

The greatest disgrace to have in the family, Mr Power added.

Temporary insanity, of course, Martin Cunningham said decisively. We must take a charitable view of it.