The Human Eyelid Is Not Teartight (happily

The Dust Will Not Settle In Our Time. And When It Does Some Great Roaring Machine Will Come And Whirl It All Skyhigh Again.

Nothing Happens. Nobody Comes, Nobody Goes. It's Awful.

The Memory Came Faint And Cold Of The Story I Might Have Told, A Story In The Likeness Of My Life, I Mean Without The Courage To End Or The Strength To Go On.

Words Are The Clothes Thoughts Wear.

Pozzo: I Am Blind. (silence.) Estragon: Perhaps He Can See Into The Future.