How long have I been here, what a question, I've often wondered. And often I could answer, An hour, a month, a year, a century, depending on what I meant by here, and me, and being, and there I never went looking for extravagant meanings, there I never much varied, only the here would sometimes seem to vary.
Samuel BeckettBut I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
Samuel BeckettDecidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
Samuel Beckett