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Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
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
First
Dancer
Think
Dancing
Thinking
Later
Life
Dance
Natural
Order
Body
Pointe
Firsts
Ballet
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
The sky sinks in the morning, this fact has been insufficiently observed.
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Absolute virtue is as sure to kill a man as absolute vice is, let alone the dullness of it and the pomposities of it.
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No painting is more replete than Mondrian's.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust
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We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
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The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
Samuel Beckett
We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties.
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
I have always been amazed at my contemporaries’ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.
Samuel Beckett
How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.
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To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
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All has not been said and never will be.
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Estragon: Nothing to be done.
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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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I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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I want very much to be back in the caul, on my back in the dark forever.
Samuel Beckett
in reality we are one and all from the unthinkable first to the no less unthinkable last glued together in a vast imbrication of flesh without breach or fissure
Samuel Beckett
Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
Samuel Beckett
Two in distressmake sorrow less.
Samuel Beckett