“I knew Beckett, and I found him a man of enormous humanity and humor and a really good companion and friend. Nothing was more enjoyable than to be with him, and of course, when I said this at the time, people couldn’t believe it.
They thought he was a sort of austere and rather forbidding, monk-like figure who looked at everything with a dark eye and saw nothing but human misery, and to find this man who loved women and good drink and good food and lived in Paris for choice, and was always every morning in a café, where he would be sitting enjoying himself with various friends, this man was not that.’’
