You’re not Mr Godot, sir? ibid. Estragon to Pozzo
The more people I meet the happier I become. ibid. Pozzo
You can’t drive such creatures away. The best thing is to kill them. ibid.
The tears of the world are a constant quantity. ibid.
I can’t bear it any longer. ibid.
Will night never come? ibid. Vladimir
That’s how it is on this bitch of an Earth. ibid. Pozzo
In the meantime nothing happens. ibid. Estragon
Nobody comes. Nobody goes. It’s awful. ibid.
Given the existence as uttered forth in the personal works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell and suffers like the divine Miranda with those who for reasons unknown but time will tell are plunged in torment plunged in fire whose fire flames ... is established beyond all doubt ... that man ... wastes and pines ... for reasons unknown. ibid. Lucky
I don’t seem to be able to depart. ibid. Pozzo
Vladimir: That passed the time.
Estragon: It would have passed in any case.
Vladimir: Yes, but not so rapidly. ibid.
I sometimes wonder if we wouldn’t be better off alone. ibid. Estragon to Vladimir
What is there to recognise? ibid.
The best thing would be to kill me. ibid.
I can’t go on like this. ibid.
This is becoming really insignificant. ibid. Vladimir
We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist. ibid. Estragon
Let’s abuse each other. ibid.
Let us not waste our time in idle discourse. ibid. Vladimir
We have kept our appointment. ibid.
We are all born mad. Some remain so. ibid. Estragon
We’re bored to death. There’s no denying it. ibid. Vladimir
What’ll we do? ibid. Estragon
Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! ibid. Pozzo to Vladimir
I don’t know what to think any more. ibid. Vladimir
I can’t go on. ibid.
Why don’t we hang ourselves? ibid. Estragon
I can’t go on like this. ibid.
We’ll hang ourselves tomorrow. Unless Godot comes. ibid. Vladimir
Estragon: Well shall we go?
Vladimir: Yes, let’s go [They do not move]. ibid.
Have you got somewhere to stay? Screen One: Sweet Nothing, stranger at station, BBC 1990
I don’t know why you all aren’t burning down my house. I would. ibid. rich lady
I may look rough but I’m not easy. ibid. Ros to Phil