He loved to laugh, Samuel Beckett. He laughed and built funny puns, almost by surprise, rather than surprise. He copied his look and his patience from those of a scarecrow, almost. And, with patience, his first royalties he had received an age very close to fifty. Probably would have won all'inedia date, if it was not for Suzanne, his tiny party, and his piano lessons. During the war, had become place a tent in the attic, where he had retired, living as a character ... Beckett. He had only one lung. A day in the subway station, a homeless man stabbed him half drunk. Some time later, Beckett had gone from her attacker in jail to ask the reason for that gesture. "I know?" - He replied, Beckett, the tramp!
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