Vladimir: Did I ever leave you? Estragon: You let me go.

Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.

What are we doing here, that is the question.

Imagination at wit's end spreads its sad wings.

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

I try. I fail. I try again. I fail better.

The confusion is not my invention. We cannot listen to a conversation for five minutes without being aware of the confusion. It is all around us and our only chance now is to let it in. The only chance of renovation is to open our eyes and see the mess. It is not a mess you can make sense of.