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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
Abode where lost bodies roam each searching for its lost one.
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To be an artist is to fail, as no other dare fail, that failure is his world and the shrink from desertion, art and craft, good housekeeping, living.
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Try again. Fail again. Try better.
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I say me, knowing all the while it's not me.
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Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
Samuel Beckett
The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
Samuel Beckett
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.
Samuel Beckett
What are we doing here, that is the question.
Samuel Beckett
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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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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I want very much to be back in the caul, on my back in the dark forever.
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Deplorable mania, when something happens, to inquire what.
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HAMM: We're not beginning to... to... mean something? CLOV: Mean something! You and I, mean something! (Brief laugh.) Ah that's a good one!
Samuel Beckett
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.
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
I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
Samuel Beckett
The search for the means to put an end to things, an end to speech, is what enables the discourse to continue.
Samuel Beckett
There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
Samuel Beckett
If by Godot I had meant God I would have said God, and not Godot.
Samuel Beckett
