He thought of hanging himself, to pass the time.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust

The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was possible. Fuck off, she said.

I am not interested in living in a city where there isn't a production by Samuel Beckett running.

You’re not too bad, Finley Sinclair.”
I couldn’t have looked away from this boy if the room had caught on fire. “You’re okay yourself. At times.”
“But we can’t get involved.”
“No.” I swallowed. “Definitely not.”
His face lowered a fraction of an inch. “Because I’m infamously bad.”
“And I’m staying away from trouble.”
His voice was rough, husky. “It would never work.” I took a step closer. “Impossible.”
He traced my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “We don’t even like each other." “I pretty much can’t stand you.”
And then his lips crushed to mine.

It's so nice to know where you're going, in the early stages. It almost rids you of the wish to go there.