black
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Love, that is all I asked, a little love, daily, twice daily, fifty years of twice daily love like a Paris horse-butcher’s regular, what normal woman wants affection?

Samuel Beckett

Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Humanity Intelligence Philosophy Poet
The dust will not settle in our time. And when it does some great roaring machine will come and whirl it all skyhigh again.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Greatness Machine Ourselves Time
Then 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

Home Myself Rain Window Writing
Memories are killing. So you must not think of certain things, of those that are dear to you, or rather you must think of them, for if you don’t there is the danger of finding them, in your mind, little by little.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dangerous Kill Memories Mindset Thinking Yourself
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

Better Fools Horrible Imagination Life Stay
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 BECKETT

End Fly Greatness Head Image Myself Pursue Trouble Word
To have been always what I am – and so changed from what I was.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Change Myself Transformation
Nothing is more real than nothing.
SAMUEL BECKETT

One Liner Reality
All life long, the same questions, the same answers.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Answer Life Long Question
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

End Greatness Light Myself Patience Shadow Shine
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Desert Lonely Love Man
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Boredom Choice Nature Shine Sun
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Artist Mess Task Work
If I was dead, I wouldn’t know I was dead. That’s the only thing I have against death. I want to enjoy my death.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Death Enjoyment Myself
Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Charity Defense
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Better Failure Inspirational Repeat Try

Love, that is all I asked, a little love, daily, twice daily, fifty years of twice daily love like a Paris horse-butcher’s regular, what normal woman wants affection?

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Love, that is all I asked, a little love, daily, twice daily, fifty years of twice daily love like a Paris horse-butcher’s regular, what normal woman wants affection?

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Popular Authors

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