With all this darkness round me I feel less alone. In a way. I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to . . . me.
What was God doing with himself before the creation?
To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.
There at least is a first affirmation, I mean negation, on which to build.
The turmoil of the day freezes in a thousand absurd postures.
Nothing is more real than nothing.
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that… Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, i...
Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed....To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this...
Io mi dico... qualche volta, Clov, bisogna che tu riesca a soffrire meglio di così, se vuoi che si stanchino di punirti... un giorno. Mi dico... qualche volta, Clov, bisogna che tu sia presente meglio...
In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one, open variously on the parading universe.
If I had known who Godot is, I would have written it in the script.
I weep without interruption. It's an unbroken flow of words and tears. With no pause for reflection. But I speak softer, every year a little softer. Perhaps. Slower too, every year a little slower. Pe...
I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
I them, the master, myself, we are all innocent, enough. Innocent of what, no one knows, of wanting to know, wanting to be able, of all this noise about nothing, of this long sin against the silence t...
E: Well, shall we go?V: Yes, let's go.(They do not move)
Words are all we have.
في صغري كان الكبار يبعثون في نفسي التساؤل والرهبة ، وما يدهشني الآن هم الأطفال يبكون ويصرخون .
في الظلام . صرير السرير جزء من حياتي لا أحب أن يختفي .
That childhood said to have been mine the difficulty of believing in it the feeling rather of having been born octogenarian at the age when one dies in the dark
[T]he mind cannot always brood on the same cares, but needs fresh cares from time to tome, so as to revert with renewed vigour, when the time comes, to ancient cares.