Words 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 BECKETTFor in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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Don’t look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one, open variously on the parading universe.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
He who has waited long enough, will wait forever. And there comes the hour when nothing more can happen and nobody more can come and all is ended but the waiting that knows itself in vain.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it’s the most comical thing in the world.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
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 -
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
What are we doing here, that is the question.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Life is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
But I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
SAMUEL BECKETT






