The essential is to go on squirming forever at the end of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven asporting God to plague his creature, per pro his chosen shits.

Estragon: We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist? Vladimir: Yes, yes, we're magicians.

To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

There's no lack of void.

Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

We all are born mad. Some remain so.

To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.