Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was but that I was, forgot to be.
SAMUEL BECKETTI could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
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 -
Fail, fail again, fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The essential doesn’t change.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Nothing is more real than nothing.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
To have been always what I am – and so changed from what I was.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
What do we do now, now that we are happy?
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 -
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 -
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Don’t look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Words are the clothes thoughts wear.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Life is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
He who has waited long enough, will wait forever. And there comes the hour when nothing more can happen and nobody more can come and all is ended but the waiting that knows itself in vain.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
All poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
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 -
There’s never an end for the sea.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
SAMUEL BECKETT