All A Work Of Art

I Don't Make A Distinction Between Men And Women. To Me They Are Just People.

Writing Keeps Me At My Desk, Constantly Trying To Write A Perfect Sentence. It Is A Great Privilege To Make One's Living From Writing Sentences. The Sentence Is The Greatest Invention Of Civilization. To Sit All Day Long Assembling These Extraordinary Strings Of Words Is A Marvelous Thing. I Couldn't Ask For Anything Better. It's As Near To Godliness As I Can Get.

Everything We Do Is Tinged With The Knowledge That This May Be The Last Time That We Will Do This, And That Makes What We're Doing Incredibly Sweet.

And Indeed Nothing Had Happened, A Momentous Nothing, Just Another Of The Great World's Shrugs Of Indifference.

Throughout The 1960s And 1970s Devoted Beckett Readers Greeted Each Successively Shorter Volume From The Master With A Mixture Of Awe And Apprehensiveness; It Was Like Watching A Great Mathematician Wielding An Infinitesimal Calculus, His Equations Approaching Nearer And Still Nearer To The Null Point.