I am writing a book, said James Joyce.
Oh, said Frank Budgeon, his friend. How's it going?
I have been working hard on it all day Joyce replied.
Ah, said Budgeon.
Seeking the 'mot juste'...
I am writing the Lestrygonians: my hero encounters silk petticoats hanging in a shop window.
"Perfume of embraces all him assailed.
With hungered flesh obscurely, he mutely craved to adore."
~ ~ ~ ~
I see, said Budgeon...
Lifted from : The Creators - Daniel J. Boorstin