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If I had the use of my body, I would throw it out the window.
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
Throw
Window
Use
Body
Would
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Nothing is more real than nothing.
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We all are born mad. Some remain so.
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My keepers, why keepers, I'm in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it's to make me think I'm a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
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What kind of country is this where a woman can't weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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It is useless not to seek, not to want, for when you cease to seek you start to find, and when you cease to want, then life begins to ram her fish and chips down your gullet until you puke, and then the puke down your gullet until you puke the puke, and then the puked puke until you begin to like it.
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I don’t like animals. It’s a strange thing, I don’t like men and I don’t like animals. As for God, he is beginning to disgust me.
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How long have I been here, what a question, I've often wondered. And often I could answer, An hour, a month, a year, a century, depending on what I meant by here, and me, and being, and there I never went looking for extravagant meanings, there I never much varied, only the here would sometimes seem to vary.
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Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most
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Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.
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Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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We always find something, eh Didi, to let us think we exist?
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Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
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There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
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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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Do we mean love, when we say love?
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I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
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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.
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
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