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The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to 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
Came
Likeness
Story
Faint
Ends
Memory
Stories
Courage
Might
Strength
Without
Cold
Mean
Memories
Life
Told
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
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.
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
No painting is more replete than Mondrian's.
Samuel Beckett
Make sense who may. I switch off.
Samuel Beckett
Birth was the death of him.
Samuel Beckett
Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.
Samuel Beckett
There's never an end for the sea.
Samuel Beckett
VLADIMIR: What do they say? ESTRAGON: They talk about their lives. VLADIMIR: To have lived is not enough for them. ESTRAGON: They have to talk about it.
Samuel Beckett
My notes have a curious tendency, as I realize at last, to annihilate all they purport to record.
Samuel Beckett
When a man in a forest thinks he is going forward in a straight line, in reality he is going in a circle, I did my best to go in a circle, hoping to go in a straight line.
Samuel Beckett
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
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
All has not been said and never will be.
Samuel Beckett
Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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
The only thing you must never speak of is your happiness.
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
Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
Samuel Beckett
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
Samuel Beckett
They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
Samuel Beckett
