Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.
Samuel BeckettMy dear Tom, Delighted to get your letter. Do write again. This life is terrible and I don't understand how it can be endured.
Samuel BeckettFinished, 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.
Samuel Beckett