Samuel Beckett Quotes
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I have always been amazed at my contemporaries’ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.
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Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards.
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Habit is a great deadener.
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They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.
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The time-state of attainment eliminates so accurately the time-state of aspiration, that the actual seems the inevitable, and, all conscious intellectual effort to reconstitute the invisible and unthinkable as a reality being fruitless, we are incapable of appreciating our joy by comparing it with our sorrow.
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Words are all we have.
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Hamm: There's something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.
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Nell: Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.Nagg: Oh?Nell: Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
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There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
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I write about myself with the same pencil and in the same exercise book as about him. It is no longer I, but another whose life is just beginning.
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The tears of the world are a constant quality. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
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We are all born mad. Some remain so.
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I can't go on. I'll go on.
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To think that in a moment all will be said, all to do again.
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Personally of course I regret everything. Not a word, not a deed, not a thought, not a need, not a grief, not a joy, not a girl, not a boy, not a doubt, not a trust, not a scorn, not a lust, not a hope, not a fear, not a smile, not a tear, not a name, not a face, no time, no place, that I do not regret, exceedingly. An ordure, from beginning to end.
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The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was possible. Fuck off, she said.
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Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it.
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A mask of dirty old hairy leather, with two holes and a slit, it was too far gone for the old trick of please your honour and God reward you and pity upon me. It was disastrous.
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Don't wait to be hunted to hide, that's always been my motto.
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Spend the years of learning squandering Courage for the years of wandering Through a world politely turning From the loutishness of learning.
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Let me say before I go any further that I forgive nobody. I wish them all an atrocious life and then the fires and ice of hell and in the execrable generations to come an honoured name.
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The essential is to go on squirming forever at the end of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven a sporting god to plague his creatures, per pro his chosen shits.
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Yes, I don’t know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.
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The only sin is the sin of being born.