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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
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
Godliness
Precision
Extinction
Landscape
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More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Estragon: I can't go on like this. Vladimir: That's what you think.
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Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
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I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of — how shall I say, I don’t know.
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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.
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To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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There is this to be said for Dachsunds of such length and lowness as Nelly, that it makes very little difference to their appearance whether they stand, sit or lie.
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I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark.
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Estragon: Nothing to be done.
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Try again. Fail again. Try better.
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I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
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Over, over, there is a soft place in my heart for all that is over, no, for the being over, words have been my only loves, not many.
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Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
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It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
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I can't go on. I'll go on.
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But it seems impossible to speak and yet say nothing, you think you have succeeded, but you always overlook something.
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Humbly to ask a favour of people who are on the point of knocking your brains out sometimes produces good results.
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Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.
Samuel Beckett
