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It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
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
Horrible
Effect
Effects
Since
Anything
Long
Longed
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
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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Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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The reality of the individualis an incoherent reality and must be expressed incoherently.
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Women are all the bloody sameyou can't love for five minutes without wanting it abolished in brats and house bloody wifery.
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We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
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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
All the things you would do gladly, oh without enthusiasm, but gladly, all the things there seems no reason for your not doing, and that you do not do! Can it be we are not free? It might be worth looking into.
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There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.
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Sloth is all passions the most powerful.
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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the tears, the skelps, and the yelps.
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The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
Samuel Beckett
If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
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We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties.
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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.
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The situation is that of him who is helpless, cannot act, in the event cannot paint, since he is obliged to paint. The act is of him who, helpless, unable to act, acts, in the event paints, since he is obliged to paint.
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We always find something, eh Didi, to let us think we exist?
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To find a form that accommodates the shape of the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
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Light black. From pole to pole.
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