black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

Samuel Beckett

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
Life is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Habit Life Perspective
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

Head Myself Universe Window
If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Love Myself Relationship Yourself
Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end.
SAMUEL BECKETT

End Thankful Yourself
Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Charity Defense
What are we doing here, that is the question.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Action Life Question Spiritual
The essential doesn’t change.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Change Essence One Liner
The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Creation Place Time World
Birth was the death of him.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Born Death Deep Himself One Liner
The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Disgust Love Old Tolerance
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Death Forget Man
If you don’t know where you are currently standing, you’re dead.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Current Death Stand Yourself
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Hide Hunt Myself Wait
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
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

Best Chance Fire Happiness Myself
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
The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Alcohol Grudge Whiskey
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it’s the most comical thing in the world.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Comedy Funny Happiness Myself World
Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
SAMUEL BECKETT

Art Clarity Clear
What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Destiny Fate Man Myself
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
All life long, the same questions, the same answers.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Answer Life Long Question
But 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 BECKETT

Born Death Live Myself
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Artist Mess Task Work
The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Day Death Normal Short Yourself
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

Affection Love Myself Normal Woman

I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

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