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Let's go. We can't. Why not? We're waiting for Godot.
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
Godot
Waiting
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
Samuel Beckett
Nothing is more real than nothing.
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Light black. From pole to pole.
Samuel Beckett
Better hope deferred than none.
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No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
Samuel Beckett
Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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And all these questions I ask myself. It is not in a spirit of curiosity. I cannot be silent. About myself I need know nothing. Here all is clear. No, all is not clear. But the discourse must go on. So one invents obscurities. Rhetoric.
Samuel Beckett
It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
Samuel Beckett
James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.
Samuel Beckett
Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
Samuel Beckett
To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
Samuel Beckett
Deplorable mania, when something happens, to inquire what.
Samuel Beckett
There's never an end for the sea.
Samuel Beckett
We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
Samuel Beckett
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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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
To find a form that accommodates the shape of the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
Samuel Beckett
Estragon: Nothing to be done.
Samuel Beckett
It was the only way to progress, to stop.
Samuel Beckett
Words are all we have.
Samuel Beckett