Suppose I do get up? Will I ever get down?
Source: All That Fall by Samuel Beckett »
Tagged in: aspirations,uncertainty
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Let us wait for a minute and this vile dust fall back upon viler worms.
from All That Fall by Samuel Beckett
It is suicide to be abroad. But what is it to be at home? A lingering dissolution.
Love, that is all I asked, a little love, daily, twice daily, fifty years of twice daily love like a Paris horse-butcher’s regular. What normal woman wants affection?
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