That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETTThat desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETTDo we mean love, when we say love?
SAMUEL BECKETTFail, fail again, fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETTI am still alive then. That may come in useful.
SAMUEL BECKETTYes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was but that I was, forgot to be.
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 BECKETTThe creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
SAMUEL BECKETTI gave up before birth.
SAMUEL BECKETTAgainst the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETTPeople are bloody ignorant apes.
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 BECKETTAll has not been said and never will be.
SAMUEL BECKETTI could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
SAMUEL BECKETTTo restore silence is the role of objects.
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 BECKETT