Samuel Beckett, complete works, 2009
Faber & Faber, London
Cover design & bespoke typefaces
For she shook off your little hand and made you a cutting retort you have never forgotten.
The voice comes to him now from one quarter and now from another
. . . Thus for example clear from above his upturned face, You first
saw the light at Easter and now. Then a murmur in his ear, You are
on your back in the dark.
And whose voice asking this? Who asks, Whose voice asking this?
And answers, His soever who devises it all. In the same dark as his
creature or in another. For company.
is a necessary complement.
Were your eyes to open they would first see far below in the last
rays the skirt of your greatcoat . . . till it vanishes . . . Vanishes from
Being has a form. Someone will find it someday. Perhaps I won’t
but someone will. It is a form that has been abandoned, left behind,
by Samuel Beckett