beckett-best-years

Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn’t want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn’t want them back.

Thought:

“

On starry heights
  A bugle wails the long recall;
Derision stirs the deep abyss,
  Heaven’s ominous silence over all.
Return, return, O eager Hope,
  And face man’s latter fall.
Events, they make the dreamers quail;
Satan’s old age is strong and hale,
A disciplined captain, gray in skill,
And Raphael a white enthusiast still;
Dashed aims, at which Christ’s martyrs pale,
Shall Mammon’s slaves fulfill?

“

Herman Melville | “The Conflict of Convictions”

INSTAGRAM

BANDCAMP

YOUTUBE