To clarify

I said the other day in class that page 44 (starting with the last line of 43) was my opus page. And it is, but I found out that only a couple people have the same copy of Beckett that I do-The one that is black and blue and has Beckett on the cover with shades.
I apologize for anyone looking up in there books page 44 (if anyone actually did. though it probably is just as powerful...but just as easily could deal with his asshole of all things) anyway the page I was talking about begins with.
"For in me there two fools among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on."

this, though devastatingly bleak, I find blindingly illuminating,
Though I essentially have the entire page underlined, i actually ended up circling the entire page, I will share some of the moments within my opus page that stood out

"And that night there was no question of moon, nor any other light, but it was a night of listening, a night given faint soughing and sighing stirring at night in the little pleasure garden, the shy sabbath of leaves and petals and the air that eddies there as it does not in other places where there is less constraint, and as it does not during the day, when there is more vigilance."

"And there was another noise, that of my life become the life of this garden as it rode the earth of deeps and wilderness. Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was, but that I was, forgot to be."

"I was the precarious calm, the thaw of snows which make no difference and all the horrors of it all all over again. But that did not happen to me often."

"mostly I stayed in my jar which knew neither seasons nor gardens. And a good thing too. But in there you have to be careful, ask yourself questions, as for example whether you still are, and if no when it stopped, and if yes how long will it still go on, anything at all to keep you from losing the thread of the dream.

"so that i might believe i was still there. And yet it meant nothing to me to be still there. I called that thinking."

really the entire page should be listed here, though I have come close, from this alone anyone should be able to see the importance, or power, the engulfment nature of this writing. It has the facade of being bleak and depressing, but all the contrary i find it almost blissful. I find zen in these lines. To add, its all the while hilarious if you take time to recognize the humor, or rather take the effort to remove yourself from the dredges. As Sexson said, this is not a true story, when there is child abuse-we should be laughing, it has to be taken with a heavy bit of salt but all that horrible and wicked stuff is funny if you just can see it for that.

I've told people about this and they've read some and i feel they get the impression I am a really dark person, which is funny to me because quite the opposite, and i think that may be why I enjoy this so much because these things are void from my life, and though it is a novel of emptying out, it is an essential and equally important part of the movments to become full once again.
This book is steeped in refuse, it is rotten, manure, decayed, depraved all these things.
but it is the fertilizer of life. and humor and even beauty
born of the ashes.

"Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams
And our desires"
"Sunday Morning" Wallace Stevens