"Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains."

Source: Samuel Beckett (2009). “Three Novels: Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable”, p.23, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.