I've Always Been Fascinated By

He Knows That After Him Everything Will Continue On Much As Before, Except That There Will Be A Minuscule Absence, A Barely Detective Gap In The So-called Grand Scheme, One Unit Fewer Now. Or Not Even That, Not Even An Empty Space Where He Once Was, For All Will Rush Immediately To Fill That Vacuum. Pft. Gone. Recollections Of Him Will Remain In The Minds Of Others For A While, But Presently Those Others Too Will Die And His Few Relics With Them. And Then All Will Be Dark.

The Booker Prize Is A Big, Popular Prize For Big, Popular Books, And That's The Way It Should Be.

All My Life I Have Lied. I Lied To Escape, I Lied To Be Loved, I Lied For Placement And Power; I Lied To Lie. It Was A Way Of Living; Lies Are Life's Almost-anagram.

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.

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.