#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the little number in front)
ESTRAGONE: And while we wait, let's try to chat without getting carried away, since we're incapable of staying silent.
VLADIMIRO: That's true, we're inexhaustible.
ESTRAGONE: We do it to avoid thinking.
VLADIMIRO: We have our excuses.
ESTRAGONE: We do it to avoid feeling.
VLADIMIRO: We have our reasons.
ESTRAGONE: All the dead voices.
VLADIMIRO: That make a sound like wings.
ESTRAGONE: Like leaves.
VLADIMIRO: Like sand.
ESTRAGONE: Like leaves.
Silence.
VLADIMIRO: They all speak at the same time.
ESTRAGONE: Each one on its own.
Silence.
VLADIMIRO: I would rather say they whisper.
ESTRAGONE: That they murmur.
VLADIMIRO: That they rustle.
ESTRAGONE: That they murmur.
Silence.
VLADIMIRO: What are they saying?
ESTRAGONE: They speak of their lives.
VLADIMIRO: They are not satisfied with having lived.
ESTRAGONE: They must also speak of it.
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
