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I felt weak, perhaps I was.
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It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
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I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of - how shall I say, I don’t know.
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I felt ill at ease with all this air about me, lost before the confusion of innumerable prospects.
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What can it matter to me, that I succeed or fail? The undertaking is none of mine, if they want me to succeed I’ll fail, and vice versa, so as not to be rid of my tormentors.
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Deplorable mania, when something happens, to inquire what.
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At no moment do I know what I’m talking about, nor of whom, nor of where, nor how, nor why, but I could employ fifty wretches for this sinister operation and still be short of the fifty-first, to close the circuit, that I know, without knowing what it means.
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How all becomes clear and simple when one opens an eye on the within, having of course previously exposed it to the without, in order to benefit by the contrast.
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No way in, go in, measure.
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Hamm: We're not beginning … to … to … mean something?Clov: Mean something? You and I mean something?
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There is a little of everything, apparently, in nature, and freaks are common.
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Enough. Sudden enough. Sudden all far. No move and sudden all far. All least. Three pins. One pinhole. In dimmost dim. Vasts apart. At bounds of boundless void. Whence no farther. Best worse no farther. Nohow less. Nohow worse. Nohow naught. Nohow on.