Watt's concern, deep as it appeared, was not after all what the figure was, in reality, but with what the figure appeared to be, in reality.

Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards.

Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.

I cannot explain my plays. Each must find out for himself what is meant

Words fail, there are times when even they fail.

That's what hell must be like, small chat to the babbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were dead.

And what I have, what I am, is enough, was always enough for me, and as far as my dear little sweet little future is concerned I have no qualms, I have a good time coming.