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Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.

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Hide Hunt Myself Wait

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

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

Better Failure Inspirational Repeat Try
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
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Dog Habit Himself
Words are the clothes thoughts wear.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Clothes Thinking Word
What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Destiny Fate Man Myself
The essential doesn’t change.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Change Essence One Liner
Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Humanity Intelligence Philosophy Poet
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
To have been always what I am – and so changed from what I was.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Change Myself Transformation
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Death Forget Man
With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Alone Darkness Feeling Myself
Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Imagination Reality Surface
Better hope deferred than none.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Better Choice Hope
Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was but that I was, forgot to be.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Forget Myself 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

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