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Absolute virtue is as sure to kill a man as absolute vice is, let alone the dullness of it and the pomposities of it.
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
Alone
Pomposity
Sure
Dullness
Men
Vice
Vices
Absolutes
Absolute
Kill
Virtue
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Birth was the death of him.
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Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.
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There is no use indicting words, they are no shoddier than what they peddle.
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It was the only way to progress, to stop.
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To-morrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day?
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I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
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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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The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
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The search for the means to put an end to things, an end to speech, is what enables the discourse to continue.
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That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange.
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Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
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The time is perhaps not altogether too green for the vile suggestion that art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear, and more than the light of day (or night) makes the subsolar, -lunar, and -stellar excrement. Art is the sun, moon, and stars of the mind, the whole mind.
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I can't go on. I'll go on.
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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.
Samuel Beckett
What kind of country is this where a woman can't weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
Samuel Beckett
It's a lot to ask of one creature, it's a lot to ask, that he should first behave as if he were not, then as if he were, before being admitted to that peace where he neither is, nor is not, and where the language dies that permits of such expressions.
Samuel Beckett
Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
Samuel Beckett
That penny farthing hell you call your mind
Samuel Beckett
