There’s never an end for the sea.
SAMUEL BECKETTThere’s never an end for the sea.
SAMUEL BECKETTWith all this darkness round me I feel less alone.
SAMUEL BECKETTDon’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETTNothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it’s the most comical thing in the world.
SAMUEL BECKETTHabit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
SAMUEL BECKETTAll poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
SAMUEL BECKETTIt was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
SAMUEL BECKETTI pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
SAMUEL BECKETTDo we mean love, when we say love?
SAMUEL BECKETTWords and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
SAMUEL BECKETTThen I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
SAMUEL BECKETTI 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 BECKETTLife is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.
SAMUEL BECKETTThe essential doesn’t change.
SAMUEL BECKETTGo on failing. Go on. Only next time, try to fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETTPeople are bloody ignorant apes.
SAMUEL BECKETT