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Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.

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
Pause
Pauses
Misery
Wasn
Enough

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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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Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!
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You are not satisfied unless form is so strictly divorced from content that you can comprehend the one without almost without bothering to read the other.
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My mistakes are my life.
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Estragon: I'm like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.
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It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
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To-morrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day?
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Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence.
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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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I can't go on. I'll go on.
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Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.
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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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Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
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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 could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
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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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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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The only sin is the sin of being born.
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