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To restore silence is the role of objects.

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

Head Myself Universe Window
I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Kind Mouth Myself Open Thinking Word
Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
SAMUEL BECKETT

Art Clarity Clear
Do we mean love, when we say love?
SAMUEL BECKETT

Deep Love Meaning One Liner
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
Go on failing. Go on. Only next time, try to fail better.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Better Failure Inspirational Time Try
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

Meaning Myself Silence Teaching Word Yourself
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
Nothing is more real than nothing.
SAMUEL BECKETT

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

Better Failure Inspirational Repeat Try
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
The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Day Death Normal Short Yourself
The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Beginning End Philosophy Wisdom
Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Friendship Human Solitude
Birth was the death of him.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Born Death Deep Himself One Liner
What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
SAMUEL BECKETT

Destiny Fate Man Myself

To restore silence is the role of objects.

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To restore silence is the role of objects.

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