My keepers, why keepers, I'm in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it's to make me think I'm a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
Samuel BeckettTo think, when one is no longer young, when one is not yet old, that one is no longer young, that one is not yet old, that is perhaps something.
Samuel BeckettI still smile it's not worth the trouble any more for a long time now it's not been worth the trouble the tongue spring goes into the mud I stay like this not thirsty any more the tongue goes back into the mouth it closes it has to make a straight line now it's done I've made the image.
Samuel Beckett