I too shall and be as when I was not yet, only, all over instead of in store. That makes happy, often now my murmur falters and dies and I weep for happiness as I go along and for love of this old earth

that has carried me so long and whose uncomplainingness will soon be mine. Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first then separate and drift through all the earth and perhaps, in the end, through a cliff into the sea, something of me.

--- Samuel Beckett

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