I have nothing but wastes and wilds of self-translation before me for many miserable months to come.
Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.
My mistakes are my life.
We could have saved sixpence. We could have saved fivepence. But at what cost?
What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties.