There are moments when the veil of hope is finally torn apart and the suddenly liberated eyes see their
world, as it is, as it must be. Alas, it does not last long, the
revelation quickly passes, the eyes can only bear such pitiless light
for a short while, the membrane of hope grows again and one returns to
the world of phenomena.
Hope is the cataract of the spirit, which cannot be pierced until it is
completely ripe for decay. Not every cataract ripens, and many a human
being can even spend his whole life within the mist of hope. And if the
cataract may have been healed for the moment, it always forms itself
again immediately, as does the hope.
Samuel Beckett, German Diaries 1936-1937
