Hot, liquid and viscous life's flowing through the iron duct, smoothly in shape and carrying rhythm that every other fails to understand and therefore a why

all white an no black

Their Blood is in me, their lusts my waves. I moved among them on the frozen Liffey, that I, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. I spoke to no-one: none to me

.As I am. As I am. All or not at all

James Joyce