But he had turned little by little a disturbance into words he had made a pillow of old words for his head.
Samuel Beckett
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I asked her to look at me and after a few moments pause after a few moments she did but the eyes just slits because of the glare I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. Pause. Low Let me in.
- Samuel Beckett -
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It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home ... what it is to be at home A lingering dissolution.
- Samuel Beckett -