Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence.
Samuel BeckettI always thought old age would be a writerโs best chance. Whenever I read the late work of Goethe or W. B. Yeats I had the impertinence to identify with it. Now, my memoryโs gone, all the old fluencyโs disappeared. I donโt write a single sentence without saying to myself, โItโs a lie!โ So I know I was right. Itโs the best chance Iโve ever had.
Samuel BeckettHold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.
Samuel Beckett