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I have always been amazed at my contemporaries’ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.

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
Whose
Morning
Finesse
Contemporaries
Night
Quests
Soul
Quest
Always
Amazed
Lack
Mere

More quotes by Samuel Beckett

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Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done.
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Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
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My mistakes are my life.
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Love requited is a short circuit.
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Make sense who may. I switch off.
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Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end.
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Over, over, there is a soft place in my heart for all that is over, no, for the being over, words have been my only loves, not many.
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It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
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To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.
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I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.
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Estragon: Nothing to be done.
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Two in distressmake sorrow less.
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Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.
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There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
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I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
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It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
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The bicycle is a great good. But it can turn nasty, if ill employed.
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The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.
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Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
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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.
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