Samuel Beckett Quotes
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Hamm: Can there be misery (he yawns) loftier than mine?
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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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You're on earth. There's no cure for that.
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Clov: When I fall I'll weep for happiness.
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Hamm: There's something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.
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Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
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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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Bah, the latest news, the latest news is not the last.
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I get up, go out, and everything is changed. The blood drains from my head, the noise of things bursting, merging, avoiding one another, assails me on all sides, my eyes search in vain for two things alike, each pinpoint of skin screams a different message, I drown in the spray of phenomena.
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How tell what remains ? But it’s the end. Or have I been dreaming, am I dreaming? No no, none of that, for dream is nothing, a joke, and significant what is worse.
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I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
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To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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Normally I didn’t see a great deal. I didn’t hear a great deal either. I didn’t pay attention. Strictly speaking I wasn’t there. Strictly speaking I believe I’ve never been anywhere.
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My appearance still made people laugh, with that hearty jovial laugh so good for the health.
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I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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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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I didn’t feel well, but they told me I was well enough. They didn’t say in so many words that I was as well as I would ever be, but that was the implication.
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What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
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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.
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Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
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Words are all we have.
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They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.
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I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.