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That penny farthing hell you call your mind
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
Farthing
Penny
Pennies
Hell
Call
Mind
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
I gave up before birth.
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Love requited is a short circuit.
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My mistakes are my life.
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Birth was the death of him.
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All has not been said and never will be.
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The sky sinks in the morning, this fact has been insufficiently observed.
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Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
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I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
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Unhappy, but not unhappy enough.
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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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Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
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Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.
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And what I have, what I am, is enough, was always enough for me, and as far as my dear little sweet little future is concerned I have no qualms, I have a good time coming.
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Words are all we have.
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It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
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Deplorable mania, when something happens, to inquire what.
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Two in distressmake sorrow less.
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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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What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come
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Make sense who may. I switch off.
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