What Do I Know Of Man's Destiny?

Personally I Have No Bone To Pick With Graveyards.

Poets Are The Sense, Philosophers The Intelligence Of Humanity.

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

Art Has Always Been This--pure Interrogation, Rhetorical Question Less The Rhetoric--whatever Else It May Have Been Obliged By Social Reality To Appear.

Ever Tried. Ever Failed. No Matter. Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Better.