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Where am I, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.
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
Must
Never
Identity
Silence
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Words are all we have.
Samuel Beckett
The fact is, it seems, that the most you can hope is to be a little less, in the end, the creature you were in the beginning, and the middle.
Samuel Beckett
When the object is perceived as particular and unique and not merely the member of a family, when it appears independent of any general notion and detached from the sanity of a cause, isolated and inexplicable in the light of ignorance, then and only then may it be a source of enchantment.
Samuel Beckett
Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
Samuel Beckett
I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
Samuel Beckett
God is love. Yes or no? No.
Samuel Beckett
What is this love that more than all the cursed deadly or any other of its great movers so moves the soul and soul what is this soul that more than by any of its great movers is by love so moved?
Samuel Beckett
To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
Samuel Beckett
Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange.
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Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
Samuel Beckett
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
Samuel Beckett
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.
Samuel Beckett
Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
Samuel Beckett
There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
Samuel Beckett
I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
Samuel Beckett
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.
Samuel Beckett
Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.
Samuel Beckett
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
Samuel Beckett
Unhappy, but not unhappy enough.
Samuel Beckett
We all are born mad. Some remain so.
Samuel Beckett