Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
SAMUEL BECKETTI am still alive then. That may come in useful.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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Fail, fail again, fail better.
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I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
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I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
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With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
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 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 -
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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The essential doesn’t change.
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What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Sometimes I wonder if I’m in my right mind. Then it passes off and I’m as intelligent as ever.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
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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 -
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 -
I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
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Do we mean love, when we say love?
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Better hope deferred than none.
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If you don’t know where you are currently standing, you’re dead.
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What are we doing here, that is the question.
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If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
To restore silence is the role of objects.
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All poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
SAMUEL BECKETT