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Replying to
The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.
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Replying to
“They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.”
As always, Beckett wastes no words.
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Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. SB
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