To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
SAMUEL BECKETTYes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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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.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
What do we do now, now that we are happy?
SAMUEL BECKETT -
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Birth was the death of him.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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 -
The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.
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 -
Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Better hope deferred than none.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
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