It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution.
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HAMM:Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?NAGG:I didn't know.HAMM:What? What didn't you know?NAGG:That it'd be you.(Pause.)
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CLOV:Do you believe in the life to come?HAMM:Mine was always that.
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I can't go on, I'll go on.
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And I seemed to see myself ageing as swiftly as a day-fly. But the idea of ageing was not exactly the one which offered itself to me. And what I saw w...
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The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
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They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.—Samuel Beckett, Worstward Ho (1983)
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All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
