I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

Yes, I dont know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.

Estragon: Suppose we repented. Vladimir: Repented what? Estragon: Oh...(He reflects.) We wouldn’t have to go into the details. Vladimir: Our being born?

There is man in his entirety, blaming his shoe when his foot is guilty.

My notes have a curious tendency, as I realize at last, to annihilate all they purport to record.

Tears and laughter, they are so much Gaelic to me.

[T]he syndrome known as life is too diffuse to admit of palliation. For every symptom that is eased, another is made worse. The horse leech's daughter is a closed system. Her quantum of wantum cannot vary.