Not About the Author

"I suppose I might—(takes up parasol)—yes, I suppose I might...hoist this thing now. (Begins to unfurl it. Following punctuated by mechanical difficulties overcome.) One keeps putting off—putting up—for fear of putting up—too soon—and the day goes by—quite by—without one's having put up—at all. (Parasol now fully open. Turned to her right she twirls it idly this way and that.) Ah yes, so little to say, so little to do, and the fear so great, certain days, of finding oneself...left, with hours still to run, before the bell for sleep, and nothing more to say, nothing more to do, that the days go by, certain days go by, quite by, the bell goes, and little or nothing said, little or nothing done. (Raising parasol.) That is the danger. (Turning front.) To be guarded against."—Beckett, Happy Days