“I think it's in Malone Dies that Beckett's creature is in a kind of prison or hospital. As I recall, he is visited twice a day, slop brought in and slop taken out. He has a stub of a pencil, a bit of paper. And he asks questions, ten, sven, I don't remember, "Why am I here?" "What day is it?" The last one, no. 10 maybe, says "Number your answers." This is not just desperation and clinging to something called 'reason'--by his fingertips--that is humanity, shit-smeared, hopeless, and mad humanity--in the face of all denial. Our work is about that. My work.”
“lucky life isn't one long string of horrors.”
“I am going to carry my bed into New York City tonightcomplete with dangling sheets and ripped blankets;I am going to push it across three dark highwaysor coast along under 600,000 faint stars.”