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I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.
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
Silence
Gone
Upon
Left
Stain
Without
Stains
Life
Wretched
Mess
Awful
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
Samuel Beckett
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
Try again. Fail again. Try better.
Samuel Beckett
To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.
Samuel Beckett
Light black. From pole to pole.
Samuel Beckett
I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
Samuel Beckett
I can't go on. I'll go on.
Samuel Beckett
All has not been said and never will be.
Samuel Beckett
How long have I been here, what a question, I've often wondered. And often I could answer, An hour, a month, a year, a century, depending on what I meant by here, and me, and being, and there I never went looking for extravagant meanings, there I never much varied, only the here would sometimes seem to vary.
Samuel Beckett
Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done.
Samuel Beckett
There is at least this to be said for mind, that it can dispel mind.
Samuel Beckett
The short winter’s day was drawing to a close. It seems to me sometimes that these are the only days I have ever known, and especially that most charming moment of all, just before night wipes them out.
Samuel Beckett
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
Samuel Beckett
It was the only way to progress, to stop.
Samuel Beckett
Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains.
Samuel Beckett
Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
Samuel Beckett
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.
Samuel Beckett
How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.
Samuel Beckett
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
Samuel Beckett
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
Samuel Beckett
