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They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.
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
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Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Teacher
Dublin city
Samuel Barclay Beckett
Andrew Belis
Sam Beckett
Sa-miao-erh Pei-kʻo-tʻe
Samuel Beḳeṭ
Baby
Matter
Children
Never
Whitewashed
Lynch
Babies
Advance
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.
Samuel Beckett
Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
Samuel Beckett
James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.
Samuel Beckett
My keepers, why keepers, I'm in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it's to make me think I'm a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
Samuel Beckett
Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most
Samuel Beckett
Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
Samuel Beckett
Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.
Samuel Beckett
The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
Samuel Beckett
HAMM: We're not beginning to... to... mean something? CLOV: Mean something! You and I, mean something! (Brief laugh.) Ah that's a good one!
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
All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
Samuel Beckett
I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
Samuel Beckett
The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the tears, the skelps, and the yelps.
Samuel Beckett
I am such a good man, at bottom, such a good man, how is it that nobody ever noticed it?
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
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
It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
Samuel Beckett
Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange.
Samuel Beckett
Do we mean love, when we say love?
Samuel Beckett
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
Samuel Beckett
