Monday, April 03, 2006

"We are all born mad. Some remain so. "

I'm chatting with a sleepy Colin who sends me things like this.

He's back to Dublin and Trinity from Wednesday to Sunday for the Beckett Centenary.
I'm jealous-
Don't get me wrong-I'm happy for him, and supportive-but still jealous.

At least he's agreed to an attempted kidnap if either Rickman or Irons make an appearance as part of the film festival.


to and fro in shadow from inner to outer shadow

from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself
by way of neither

as between two lit refuges whose doors once
neared gently close, once away turned from
gently part again

beckoned back and forth and turned away

heedless of the way, intent on the one gleam
or the other

unheard footfalls only sound

till at last halt for good, absent for good
from self and other

then no sound

then gently light unfading on that unheeded

unspeakable home

-Samuel Beckett


Post a Comment

<< Home