Samuel Beckett Quotes
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If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love.
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Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
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To restore silence is the role of objects.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world.
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They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
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We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
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Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.
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Krapp: 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.
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The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.
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Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.
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Birth was the death of him.
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James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.
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The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.
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The expression that there is nothing to express, nothing with which to express, nothing from which to express, no power to express, no desire to express, together with the obligation to express.
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You're on earth. There's no cure for that.
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If I had the use of my body, I would throw it out the window.
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Clov: When I fall I'll weep for happiness.
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No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
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To contrive a little kingdom, in the midst of the universal muck, then shit on it, ah that was me all over.
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Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
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All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.