“I can't go on…I’ll go on.” —final two sentences of Samuel Beckett's novel, The Unnamable.
Yet, at times, I'm baffled as to how we, the scant and scattered few, who refuse to close our eyes and block our hearts to the realities of the day continue to go on. What force restrains one from reeling into the street seized by lamentation?
-- Phil Rockstroh
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