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

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

Estragon: What about hanging ourselves? Vladimir: Hmm. It'd give us an erection.

Estragon: Nothing to be done.

Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.

I have nothing but wastes and wilds of self-translation before me for many miserable months to come.

Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished. Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap. I can't be punished any more. I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me. Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.