POZZO: I am blind. (Silence.) ESTRAGON: Perhaps he can see into the future.

The loss of my sight was a great fillip. If I could go deaf and dumb I think I might pant on to be a hundred.

Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.

It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution.

I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.

Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.

All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.