Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
There is something...more important in life than punctuality, and that is decorum.
It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution.
Look at the ocean! Never seen anything like that! What? A sail? A fin? Smoke? The light is sunk. Pah! We all knew that. There was a bit left. The base. Yes. And now? All gone. No gulls? Gulls! And the horizon? Nothing on the horizon? What in God's name could there be on the horizon? (Pause.) The waves, how are the waves? The waves? (He turns the telescope on the waves.) Lead. And the sun? Zero. But it should be sinking. Look again. Damn the sun. Is it night already then? No. Then what is it? Gray. (Lowering the telescope, turning towards Hamm, louder.) Gray! (Pause. Still louder.) GRRAY! (Pause. He gets down, approaches Hamm from behind, whispers in his ear.) Gray! Did I hear you say gray? Light black. From pole to pole.
Enough. Sudden enough. Sudden all far. No move and sudden all far. All least. Three pins. One pinhole. In dimmost dim. Vasts apart. At bounds of boundless void. Whence no farther. Best worse no farther. Nohow less. Nohow worse. Nohow naught. Nohow on.
All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
No, life ends and no, there is nothing elsewhere, and no question now of ever finding again that white speck lost in whiteness, to see if they still lie still in the stress of that storm, or of a worse storm, or in the black dark for good, or the great whiteness unchanging, and if not what they are doing.
No way in, go in, measure.
Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now.
We're not beginning...to...to...mean something? Mean something? You and I mean something?
When I fall I'll weep for happiness.
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness. Oh? Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
There's something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.