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To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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
Artist
Form
Find
Accommodates
Accommodate
Task
Mess
Chaos
Tasks
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Where am I, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.
Samuel Beckett
Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.
Samuel Beckett
And all these questions I ask myself. It is not in a spirit of curiosity. I cannot be silent. About myself I need know nothing. Here all is clear. No, all is not clear. But the discourse must go on. So one invents obscurities. Rhetoric.
Samuel Beckett
Words are all we have.
Samuel Beckett
I try. I fail. I try again. I fail better.
Samuel Beckett
Not to want to say, not to know what you want to say, not to be able to say what you think you want to say, and never to stop saying, or hardly ever, that is the thing to keep in mind, even in the heat of composition.
Samuel Beckett
Women are all the bloody sameyou can't love for five minutes without wanting it abolished in brats and house bloody wifery.
Samuel Beckett
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
It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
Samuel Beckett
Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains.
Samuel Beckett
The time is perhaps not altogether too green for the vile suggestion that art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear, and more than the light of day (or night) makes the subsolar, -lunar, and -stellar excrement. Art is the sun, moon, and stars of the mind, the whole mind.
Samuel Beckett
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
Samuel Beckett
What a joy to know where one is, and where one will stay, without being there. Nothing to do but stretch out comfortably on the rack, in the blissful knowledge you are nobody for all eternity. A pity I should have to give tongue at the same time, it prevents it from bleeding in peace, licking the lips.
Samuel Beckett
Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
Samuel Beckett
Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
Samuel Beckett
We all are born mad. Some remain so.
Samuel Beckett
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
Samuel Beckett
It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
Samuel Beckett
If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
Samuel Beckett
It is better to adopt the simplest explanation, even if it is not simple, even if it does not explain very much. A bright light is not necessary, a taper is all one needs to live in strangeness, if it faithfully burns.
Samuel Beckett
