Waiting for Godot

by Samuel Beckett

Never neglect the little things of life.

the road seems long when one journeys all alone for

From the meanest creature one departs wiser, richer, more conscious of one’s blessings. Even you . . . (he looks at them ostentatiously in turn to make it clear they are both meant) . . . even you, who knows, will have added to my store.

The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.

That passed the time. ESTRAGON: It would have passed in any case. VLADIMIR: Yes, but not so rapidly. Pause. ESTRAGON: What do we do

One is not master of one’s moods.

VLADIMIR: We are happy. ESTRAGON: We are happy. (Silence.) What do we do now, now that we are happy? VLADIMIR: Wait for Godot.

and so it goes…

That’s the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.

VLADIMIR: To have lived is not enough for them. ESTRAGON: They have to talk about it.

We could start all over again perhaps. ESTRAGON: That should be easy. VLADIMIR: It’s the start that’s difficult. ESTRAGON: You can start from anything. VLADIMIR: Yes, but you have to decide.

VLADIMIR: What is terrible is to have thought. ESTRAGON: But did that ever happen to us?

ESTRAGON: We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist? VLADIMIR: (impatiently). Yes yes, we’re magicians.

Do you think God sees me? VLADIMIR: You must close your eyes.

Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say?

We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much? ESTRAGON: Billions. VLADIMIR: You think so? ESTRAGON: I don’t know. VLADIMIR: You may be right.

We are all born mad. Some remain so.

In an instant all will vanish and we’ll be alone once more, in the midst of nothingness!

Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? To-morrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day?

habit is a great deadener.