To come on to a stable conclusion one would have to define what time really is. The problem, however, is that no one will ever be sure. Nevertheless, we would have to agree that in the end it really is irrelevant despite human`s desperate need for it. The past, present and future all wrap up to the same thing: life. It is this precisely, that human beings don't understand.
"POZZO
...(Turning to Vladimir and Estragon.) Thank you, gentlemen, and let me . . . (he fumbles in his pockets) . . . let me wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . what have I done with my watch? (Fumbles.) A genuine half-hunter, gentlemen, with deadbeat escapement! (Sobbing.) Twas my granpa gave it to me! (He searches on the ground, Vladimir and Estragon likewise. Pozzo turns over with his foot the remains of Lucky's hat.) Well now isn't that just—
VLADIMIR
Perhaps it's in your fob.
POZZO
Wait! (He doubles up in an attempt to apply his ear to his stomach, listens. Silence.) I hear nothing. (He beckons them to approach, Vladimir and Estragon go over to him, bend over his stomach.) Surely one should hear the tick-tick.
VLADIMIR
Silence!
All listen, bent double.
ESTRAGON
I hear something.
POZZO
Where?
VLADIMIR
It's the heart.
POZZO
(disappointed) Damnation!
VLADIMIR
Silence!
ESTRAGON
Perhaps it has stopped." (Beckett, 49)
...(Turning to Vladimir and Estragon.) Thank you, gentlemen, and let me . . . (he fumbles in his pockets) . . . let me wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . what have I done with my watch? (Fumbles.) A genuine half-hunter, gentlemen, with deadbeat escapement! (Sobbing.) Twas my granpa gave it to me! (He searches on the ground, Vladimir and Estragon likewise. Pozzo turns over with his foot the remains of Lucky's hat.) Well now isn't that just—
VLADIMIR
Perhaps it's in your fob.
POZZO
Wait! (He doubles up in an attempt to apply his ear to his stomach, listens. Silence.) I hear nothing. (He beckons them to approach, Vladimir and Estragon go over to him, bend over his stomach.) Surely one should hear the tick-tick.
VLADIMIR
Silence!
All listen, bent double.
ESTRAGON
I hear something.
POZZO
Where?
VLADIMIR
It's the heart.
POZZO
(disappointed) Damnation!
VLADIMIR
Silence!
ESTRAGON
Perhaps it has stopped." (Beckett, 49)
In this quote of the novel, when Estragon confuses the ticking of the missing clock with that of the heart he reveals a simple truth. The only real clock in life is the heart. This machine is what keeps us going and what will eventually stop us. The only time that's actually valuable is the one that is biologically being kept track of.
"A country road. A tree.
Evening. (Beckett, Act I)
The simple setting where the novel takes place reflects the simplicity in the truth. A tree symbolizes life and it is the only thing that really changes throughout time. The characters realize that it grows leaves, suggesting a change in season. Again, it is significant because as I mentioned before its biological. A road symbolizes life too. There are many decisions that will lead you to a different place but in the end, as I mentioned in the previous post, it has a final stop. Death. When the biological time runs out the path is cut short. It is here where the simplicity matters. From an existentialist pair of eyes this is all life is and death is insignificant. Camus' philosophy of life being best when meaningless strikes Waiting for Godot. Life is nothing but a recursion of absolutely everything. It has no more meaning than a variation of choices, a repetition of everything, and it all ends when the biological time is over. Period.
"A country road. A tree.
Evening. (Beckett, Act I)
The simple setting where the novel takes place reflects the simplicity in the truth. A tree symbolizes life and it is the only thing that really changes throughout time. The characters realize that it grows leaves, suggesting a change in season. Again, it is significant because as I mentioned before its biological. A road symbolizes life too. There are many decisions that will lead you to a different place but in the end, as I mentioned in the previous post, it has a final stop. Death. When the biological time runs out the path is cut short. It is here where the simplicity matters. From an existentialist pair of eyes this is all life is and death is insignificant. Camus' philosophy of life being best when meaningless strikes Waiting for Godot. Life is nothing but a recursion of absolutely everything. It has no more meaning than a variation of choices, a repetition of everything, and it all ends when the biological time is over. Period.

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