Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn’t want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn’t want them back.
SAMUEL BECKETTPerhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn’t want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn’t want them back.
SAMUEL BECKETTAll poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
SAMUEL BECKETTArt has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
SAMUEL BECKETTThe end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
SAMUEL BECKETTThe essential doesn’t change.
SAMUEL BECKETTWe have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
SAMUEL BECKETTWhat are we doing here, that is the question.
SAMUEL BECKETTWords are the clothes thoughts wear.
SAMUEL BECKETTDon’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETTThe sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
SAMUEL BECKETTAny fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
SAMUEL BECKETTIn 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 BECKETTYes, 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 BECKETTAgainst the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETTBut 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 BECKETTWhat do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT