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Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
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
Fail
Failing
Times
Words
Language
Even
Time
More quotes by 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!
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For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.
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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
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Decidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
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Ah, the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!
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The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.
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The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust
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The only sin is the sin of being born.
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Words are all we have.
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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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We always find something, eh Didi, to let us think we exist?
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Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
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They never lynch children, babies, no matter what they do they are whitewashed in advance.
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If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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When the object is perceived as particular and unique and not merely the member of a family, when it appears independent of any general notion and detached from the sanity of a cause, isolated and inexplicable in the light of ignorance, then and only then may it be a source of enchantment.
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We all are born mad. Some remain so.
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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.
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Humbly to ask a favour of people who are on the point of knocking your brains out sometimes produces good results.
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