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Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
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
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Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Teacher
Dublin city
Samuel Barclay Beckett
Andrew Belis
Sam Beckett
Sa-miao-erh Pei-kʻo-tʻe
Samuel Beḳeṭ
Intelligence
Poet
Humanity
Sense
Philosophers
Poets
Philosopher
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
What are we doing here, that is the question.
Samuel Beckett
Better hope deferred than none.
Samuel Beckett
I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
Samuel Beckett
How long have I been here, what a question, I've often wondered. And often I could answer, An hour, a month, a year, a century, depending on what I meant by here, and me, and being, and there I never went looking for extravagant meanings, there I never much varied, only the here would sometimes seem to vary.
Samuel Beckett
Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards.
Samuel Beckett
In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
Samuel Beckett
The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
Samuel Beckett
That penny farthing hell you call your mind
Samuel Beckett
Sloth is all passions the most powerful.
Samuel Beckett
Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
Samuel Beckett
But I know what darkness is, it accumulates, thickens, then suddenly bursts and drowns everything.
Samuel Beckett
Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
Samuel Beckett
But it seems impossible to speak and yet say nothing, you think you have succeeded, but you always overlook something.
Samuel Beckett
Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
Samuel Beckett
Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
Samuel Beckett
Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.
Samuel Beckett
The only sin is the sin of being born.
Samuel Beckett
Where am I, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.
Samuel Beckett
My keepers, why keepers, I'm in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it's to make me think I'm a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
Samuel Beckett
What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.
Samuel Beckett
