black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.

Samuel Beckett

The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Creation Place Time World
I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Kind Mouth Myself Open Thinking Word
You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Cure Earth One Liner
Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Deep Necessary Silence Word
Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Charity Defense
Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Blind Eyes Fools See
I use the words you taught me. If they don’t mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Meaning Myself Silence Teaching Word Yourself
What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Destiny Fate Man Myself
But what matter whether I was born or not, have lived or not, am dead or merely dying. I shall go on doing as I have always done, not knowing what it is I do, nor who I am, nor where I am, nor if I am.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Born Death Live Myself
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Boredom Choice Nature Shine Sun
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Hide Hunt Myself Wait
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dog Habit Himself
Sometimes I wonder if I’m in my right mind. Then it passes off and I’m as intelligent as ever.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Intelligence Mindset Myself Right Wonder
It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dreams Effect Horrible Myself
All poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Discrimination Poetry Prayer
Dance first. Think later. It’s the natural order.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dance Natural Order Thinking

To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Samuel Beckett Quotes