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.

For to know nothing is nothing, not to want to know anything likewise, but to be beyond knowing anything, to know you are beyond knowing anything, that is when peace enters in, to the soul of the incurious seeker.

All I say cancels out, I’ll have said nothing.

Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.

If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love.

To find a form that accommodates the shape of the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.