James Joyce’s masterpiece is of course Ulysses, the great book of one day in the life of Leopold Bloom and his associates…
We all know how that one ends, with Molly Bloom’s stream of consciousness:
“…Yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.” ― James Joyce, Ulysses
Above: Front-page of the subscription form for Joyce’s Ulysses, published by Sylvia Beach’s Shakespeare and Company in Paris, 1922
