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Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

 

Halted, he peered down the dark, winding stairs and called out coarsely:

 

First lines from Ulysses by James Joyce, 1922

A combo of A.I Generated, then I altered it with GIMP and used Artbreeder.

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