The Loss Of My Sight Was A

All I Want To Do Is Sit On My Ass And Fart And Think Of Dante.

The Time Is Perhaps Not Altogether Too Green For The Vile Suggestion That Art Has Nothing To Do With Clarity, Does Not Dabble In The Clear And Does Not Make Clear, And More Than The Light Of Day (or Night) Makes The Subsolar, -lunar, And -stellar Excrement. Art Is The Sun, Moon, And Stars Of The Mind, The Whole Mind.

Vladimir: I Don't Understand. Estragon: Use Your Intelligence, Can't You? Vladimir Uses His Intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I Remain In The Dark.

Enough To Know No Knowing.

Yes, I Dont Know Why, But I Have Never Been Disappointed, And I Often Was In The Early Days, Without Feeling At The Same Time, Or A Moment Later, An Undeniable Relief.