He wanted to sin with another of his kind, to force another being to sin with him and to exult with her in sin.
His hands clenched convulsively and his teeth set together as he suffered the agony of its penetration.
It broke from him like a wail of despair from a hell of sufferers and died in a wail of furious entreaty, a cry for an iniquitous abandonment, a cry which was the echo of an obscene scrawl which he had read on the oozing wall of a urinal.
As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely.
They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than the sound of odour.
from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
His hands clenched convulsively and his teeth set together as he suffered the agony of its penetration.
It broke from him like a wail of despair from a hell of sufferers and died in a wail of furious entreaty, a cry for an iniquitous abandonment, a cry which was the echo of an obscene scrawl which he had read on the oozing wall of a urinal.
As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely.
They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than the sound of odour.
from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce