"And I even feel a strange desire come over me, the desire to know what I am doing, and why."
"And gravely I struggled to be grave no more, to live, to invent, I know what I mean."
"Night, storm and sorrow, and the catalepsies of the soul, this time I shall see that they are good. The last word is not yet said between me and--yes the last word is said. Perhaps I simply want to hear it said again. Just once again. No, I want nothing."
Quote: "And I even feel a strange desire come over me, the desire to know what I am doing, and why. So I near the goal I set myself in my young days and which prevented me from living. And on the threshold of being no more I succeed in being another. Very pretty."
"Sometimes I miss not being able to crawl around anymore. But I am not much given to nostalgia. My arms, ONCE THEY ARE IN POSITION, can EXERT A CERTAIN FORCE."
" 'Think of the price of manure' said his mother".........
"What matters is to eat and excrete. Dish and pot, dish and pot, these are the poles."
isn't that terribly true?
oh well, enjoy the rest of 2020...... I truly wish you well....
" But it sometimes happened, before he decided to go, before he went rather, FOR THERE WAS NO DECISION, THAT A HEN, taking advantage of the open door, would venture into the room."
"No sooner had she crossed the threshhold than she PAUSED , one leg hooked under her breech, her head on one side, blinking, anxious."
"Then, reassured, SHE ADVANCED A LITTLE FURTHER, JERKILY, WITH CONCERTINA NECK."
"She had a parrot, very pretty, all the most approved colours. I understood him better than his mistress. I don't mean I understood him better than she understood him HAHA , I mean I understood him better than I understood her. (haha)
He exclaimed from time to time, Fuck the son of a bitch, fuck the son of a bitch. He must have belonged to an American sailor, before he belonged to Louise.
"You don't remember immediately who you are, when you wake. On a chair I found a white chamber-pot with a roll of toilet-paper in it. NOTHING WAS BEING LEFT TO CHANCE. "
I feel I've gone too far with these Beckett quotes but I care not to stop.
"It was a larch. Funny that she decided to bury her dog beneath the only tree I can identify, with certainty. The SEA-GREEN NEEDLES ARE LIKE SILK AND SPECKLED, IT ALWAYS SEEMED TO ME, WITH LITTLE RED, HOW SHALL I SAY, WITH LITTLE RED SPECKS."