—But you have not answered my question, said Lynch. What is art? What is the beauty it expresses?
—That was the first definition I gave you, you sleepyheaded wretch, said Stephen, when I began to try to think out the matter for myself. Do you remember the night? Cranly lost his temper and began to talk about Wicklow bacon.
—I remember, said Lynch. He told us about them flaming fat devils of pigs.
—Art, said Stephen, is the human disposition of sensible or intelligible matter for an esthetic end.You remember the pigs and forget that. You are a distressing pair, you and Cranly.