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But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late!
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
Place
Make
Time
Godot
Like
Late
Mankind
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Moment
Moments
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
God is a witness that cannot be sworn.
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Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.
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Do we mean love, when we say love?
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No painting is more replete than Mondrian's.
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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.
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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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You would do better, at least no worse, to obliterate texts than to blacken margins, to fill in the holes of words till all is blank and flat and the whole ghastly business looks like what it is, senseless, speechless, issueless misery.
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Birth was the death of him.
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Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.
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Sloth is all passions the most powerful.
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An imaginative adventure does not enjoy the same corsets as reportage.
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Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
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It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
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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.
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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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The only sin is the sin of being born.
Samuel Beckett
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.
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James Joyce: His writing is not about something. It is the thing itself.
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
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