What's it going to be then, eh?

It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you watch them on a screen.

Beckett does not believe in God, though he seems to imply that God has committed an unforgivable sin by not existing.

Great Music, it said, and Great Poetry would like quieten Modern Youth down and make Modern Youth more Civilized. Civilized my syphilised yarbles.

I mean, there's little enough in this life, really, and you only find it worth living for the odd moments, and if you think you're going to have those odd moments again, then it makes life wonderful and have a meaning.

The downtrodden are the great creators of slang.

But what I do I do because I like to do.