Quote

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.

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
Words
Troubled
Running
Pursuing
Anything
Indifference
Great
Images
Clashing
Really
Flying
Merging
Never
Calm
Tumult
Beyond
Endlessly
Head
Riot

More quotes by Samuel Beckett

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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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If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
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All that is active, all that is enveloped in time and space, is endowed with what might be described as an abstract, ideal and absolute impermeability.
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Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.
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To be an artist is to fail, as no other dare fail, that failure is his world and the shrink from desertion, art and craft, good housekeeping, living.
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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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But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late!
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Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
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Let's go. We can't. Why not? We're waiting for Godot.
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Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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Love requited is a short circuit.
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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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Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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Sloth is all passions the most powerful.
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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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What kind of country is this where a woman can't weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
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I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
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Poetry is essentially the antithesis of Metaphysics: Metaphysics purge the mind of the senses and cultivate the disembodiment of the spiritual Poetry is all passionate and feeling and animates the inanimate Metaphysics are most perfect when concerned with universals Poetry, when most concerned with particulars.
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For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.
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