Birth was the death of him.
SAMUEL BECKETTLife is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
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All has not been said and never will be.
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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.
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Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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Go on failing. Go on. Only next time, try to fail better.
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The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust.
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I am still alive then. That may come in useful.
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There’s never an end for the sea.
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Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
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Words are the clothes thoughts wear.
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Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.
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Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
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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.
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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.
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I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
SAMUEL BECKETT