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Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

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Blind Eyes Fools See

Bagwalas

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Nothing is more real than nothing.
SAMUEL BECKETT

One Liner Reality
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Born Crazy Remain
You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Cure Earth One Liner
I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Feeling Myself Record
If you don’t know where you are currently standing, you’re dead.
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Current Death Stand Yourself
To restore silence is the role of objects.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Object Restore Role Silence
The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Alcohol Grudge Whiskey
All has not been said and never will be.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Talk Voice Word
But I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
SAMUEL BECKETT

End Greatness Light Myself Patience Shadow Shine
With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Alone Darkness Feeling Myself
I use the words you taught me. If they don’t mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Meaning Myself Silence Teaching Word Yourself
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Artist Mess Task Work
It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dreams Effect Horrible Myself
There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Destruction Escape Important Past Place
If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Fear Invention Myself Question
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Desert Lonely Love Man

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