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 BECKETTWe have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
More Samuel Beckett Quotes
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The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.
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Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
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But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late!
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Better hope deferred than none.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
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 -
All life long, the same questions, the same answers.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
There’s something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
What do we do now, now that we are happy?
SAMUEL BECKETT -
All poetry, as discriminated from the various paradigms of prosody, is prayer.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.
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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 -
I use the words you taught me. If they don’t mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
SAMUEL BECKETT -
Fail, fail again, fail better.
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I am still alive then. That may come in useful.
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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.
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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 -
Memories are killing. So you must not think of certain things, of those that are dear to you, or rather you must think of them, for if you don’t there is the danger of finding them, in your mind, little by little.
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All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.
SAMUEL BECKETT