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I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
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
Helping
Groaning
Helplessness
Polite
Tone
Tried
Conversation
Came
Help
Groan
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
There is this to be said for Dachsunds of such length and lowness as Nelly, that it makes very little difference to their appearance whether they stand, sit or lie.
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Birth was the death of him.
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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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It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
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Enough to know no knowing.
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How hideous is the semicolon.
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Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.
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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.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.' You won't believe what you can accomplish by attempting the impossible with the courage to repeatedly fail better.
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I don't know why I told this story. I could just as well have told another. Perhaps some other time I'll be able to tell another. Living souls, you will see how alike they are.
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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
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We all are born mad. Some remain so.
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Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
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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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Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.
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What are we doing here, that is the question.
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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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God is love. Yes or no? No.
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