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And what I have, what I am, is enough, was always enough for me, and as far as my dear little sweet little future is concerned I have no qualms, I have a good time coming.
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
Future
Littles
Little
Enough
Qualms
Good
Dear
Always
Concerned
Time
Sweet
Coming
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Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
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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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Vladimir: Did I ever leave you? Estragon: You let me go.
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And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it is wept.
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Light black. From pole to pole.
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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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We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
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I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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Words are all we have.
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Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
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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
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Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end he remembers the exact spot in the garden and the kind of life he led there before joining the family circle.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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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.
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