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The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.
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
Nothing
Streams
Sadness
Tears
Perhaps
Unblinking
Brain
Saddening
Eyes
Weep
Eye
Cheeks
Makes
Stream
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
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God is a witness that cannot be sworn.
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That penny farthing hell you call your mind
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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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Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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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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What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come
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All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
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Two in distressmake sorrow less.
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To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end.
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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.
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Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.
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I hope I am not too old to take it up seriously, nor too stupid about machines to qualify as a commercial pilot. I do not feel like spending the rest of my life writing books that no one will read. It is not as though I wanted to write them.
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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.
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We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
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Estragon: Nothing to be done.
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The fact is, it seems, that the most you can hope is to be a little less, in the end, the creature you were in the beginning, and the middle.
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Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.
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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.
Samuel Beckett
