Every Word Is Like An

Nothing Is More Real Than Nothing.

I Can't Go On. I'll Go On.

Vladimir: I Don't Understand. Estragon: Use Your Intelligence, Can't You? Vladimir Uses His Intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I Remain In The Dark.

The Time Is Perhaps Not Altogether Too Green For The Vile Suggestion That Art Has Nothing To Do With Clarity, Does Not Dabble In The Clear And Does Not Make Clear, And More Than The Light Of Day (or Night) Makes The Subsolar, -lunar, And -stellar Excrement. Art Is The Sun, Moon, And Stars Of The Mind, The Whole Mind.

Estragon: I Can't Go On Like This. Vladimir: That's What You Think.