I went up to my room again, drew back the curtains on a calamitous sky and lay down. I could not understand what was happening to me. I found it painful at that period not to understand. I tried to pull myself together. In vain, I might have known. My life was running out, I knew not through what breach.
(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Molloy - pg. 102
Labels: Samuel Beckett
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