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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.

Samuel Beckett

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Samuel Beckett
Age: 83 †
Born: 1906
Born: April 13
Died: 1989
Died: December 22
Artist
Author
Cricketer
Film Director
French Resistance Fighter
Intellectual
Linguist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Teacher
Dublin city
Samuel Barclay Beckett
Andrew Belis
Sam Beckett
Sa-miao-erh Pei-kʻo-tʻe
Samuel Beḳeṭ
Look
Might
Cursing
Looks
Shine
Take
Bliss
Shining
Hell
Hear
Asks

More quotes by Samuel Beckett

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The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
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The reality of the individualis an incoherent reality and must be expressed incoherently.
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Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
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I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
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There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
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Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards, I take the air there willingly, perhaps more willingly than elsewhere, when take the air I must.
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Let's go. We can't. Why not? We're waiting for Godot.
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I am such a good man, at bottom, such a good man, how is it that nobody ever noticed it?
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Birth was the death of him.
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To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.
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Adulterers, take warning, never admit.
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Enough to know no knowing.
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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Sloth is all passions the most powerful.
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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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Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
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Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence.
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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.
Samuel Beckett