To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
As it is with the love of the body, so with the friendship of the mind, the full is only reached by admittance to the most retired places.
Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most
Words are all we have.
Do we mean love, when we say love?
Vladimir: Did I ever leave you? Estragon: You let me go.