What Are We Doing Here, That Is

You're On Earth. There's No Cure For That.

Imagination At Wit's End Spreads Its Sad Wings.

We Wait. We Are Bored. (he Throws Up His Hand.) No, Don't Protest, We Are Bored To Death, There's No Denying It. Good. A Diversion Comes Along And What Do We Do? We Let It Go To Waste. Come, Let's Get To Work! (he Advances Towards The Heap, Stops In His Stride.) In An Instant All Will Vanish And We'll Be Alone More, In The Midst Of Nothingness!

Pozzo: I Am Blind. (silence.) Estragon: Perhaps He Can See Into The Future.

There Is Man In His Entirety, Blaming His Shoe When His Foot Is Guilty.