Quote

Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end he remembers the exact spot in the garden and the kind of life he led there before joining the family circle.

Samuel Beckett

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Spot
Family
Circle
Often
Spots
Found
Circles
Cabbage
Ends
Atheism
Remembers
Remember
Garden
Joining
Enough
Told
Infant
Kind
Exact
Life
Acting

More quotes by Samuel Beckett

Image
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
Image
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
Image
Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
Samuel Beckett
Image
I say me, knowing all the while it's not me.
Samuel Beckett
Image
Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
Samuel Beckett
Image
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
Image
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world.
Samuel Beckett
Image
Do they [the publishers of Murphy] not understand that if the book is slightly obscure it is because it is a compression and thatto compress it further can only make it more obscure?
Samuel Beckett
Image
Do we mean love, when we say love?
Samuel Beckett
Image
Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear
Samuel Beckett
Image
Yes, I dont know why, but I have never been disappointed, and I often was in the early days, without feeling at the same time, or a moment later, an undeniable relief.
Samuel Beckett
Image
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.
Samuel Beckett
Image
I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
Samuel Beckett
Image
Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!
Samuel Beckett
Image
Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
Samuel Beckett
Image
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.
Samuel Beckett
Image
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.
Samuel Beckett
Image
Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards, I take the air there willingly, perhaps more willingly than elsewhere, when take the air I must.
Samuel Beckett
Image
I am such a good man, at bottom, such a good man, how is it that nobody ever noticed it?
Samuel Beckett
Image
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